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MEMOIRS OF 
THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

BY COUNT DE GRAMONT 

With a Special Introduction 
and Illustrations 




NEW YORK 

P F COLLIER & SON 

PUBLISHERS 



Copyright igio 
By p. F. Collier & Son 






©CI.A305503 

NO. I 



INTRODUCTION 

Rather curiously, these "Memoirs" of a French- 
man were written by an Enghshman in the French 
language, their largest portion being devoted to the 
gay doings of English courtiers in England during the 
reign of Charles II. 

Philibert, the Chevalier de Gramont, born in 1621, 
was the younger son of the French duke of that name. 
Like most European younger sons, he had to depend 
chiefly upon his natural gifts for advancement. Des- 
tined for the Church, he early revolted against that 
and devoted himself to the careers of the army and the 
Court — in brief, to a life of gallantry, in all the senses 
of that word. 

Notably handsome, of high birth, brilliantly witty, 
gay under all circumstances, fertile in story, sport, or 
genial talk, keen and merrily unscrupulous in gaming, 
attractive to and attracted by women of high and low 
degree, and indomitably courageous, his early army 
service under the great Generals Conde and Turenne 
opened to him a career of adventure. He was admired 
as a soldier, prized as a comrade, popular everywhere ; 
so that when he returned from camp to Court he was 
an instant favourite. From King Louis XIV. down to 
the lackeys, every one sought to please him and for- 
ward his fortunes. These dazzling successes seem to 
have turned his head somewhat, since he was venture- 
some enough to make love to one of the King's own 
favourites, and early in 1662 was banished. 

Before this, De Gramont had visited the English 
1 — Memoirs 3 VoL 4 



4 INTRODUCTION 

Court during Cromwell's Protectorate, and had found 
it exceedingly dull. But Charles 11. was now in power, 
and the liveliness, festivities, and social laxities of the 
Court of the Restoration offered him a congenial ref- 
uge, and he betook himself thither. 

Of course, so blithe and attractive a cavalier found 
welcome in court circles, and De Gramont was promptly 
installed in favour. Here he pursued his customary 
courses — gambled with the men, gave and received 
splendid hospitalities ( for he seems to have been usu- 
ally well supplied with money, and when that failed 
was even more lavish in his hospitalities until the 
gaming-table replenished his purse), found time to 
galantiser variously among the frail beauties of the 
Court, and had a dashing career during the few 
years of his sojourn. It is with this period that the 
"Memoirs" are chiefly concerned. They are certainly 
startling reminiscences of that profligate Court, giving 
witty and graphic details of the lives of many indi- 
viduals of note, men and women, with their ambitions, 
intrigues, loves and hatreds, entertainments and cruel- 
ties, practical jokes, doings and undoings. 

Among the most winsome of the ladies was Miss 
Eliza Hamilton, daughter of Anthony, Count Hamil- 
ton, niece of the Duke of Ormonde. With her, De 
Gramont seems to have genuinely fallen in love. Amid 
his other feminine pursuits he held more constantly to 
her than, to any other, persistently seeking her in mar- 
riage. She evidently favoured him, although to what 
extent is uncertain, since in mid-December, 1663, De 
Gramont received what he thought to be a recall to 
the French Court, authorised by the King, and started 
for France. The story goes — although not chronicled 
in the "Memoirs" — that on his way to the coast he was 
overtaken by George and Anthony, Miss Hamilton's 
brothers, who asked him whether he had not forgotten 



INTRODUCTION 5 

something in London. "Yes," he replied, "I forgot 
to marry your sister." Forthwith he returned, per- 
formed that pleasant duty on December 22, and accord- 
ing to his lights — which were variable — made the new 
countess a fairly steady husband. 

Here the ^'Memoirs" end. But in 1664 De Gramont 
returned to France with his wife, being graciously re- 
ceived by the King, and served in the army in the Low 
Countries, while his Countess was accepted among the 
attendants upon Maria Theresa, Queen Consort of 
Louis XIV. Of his two daughters, one married Henry 
Howard, Marquis of Stratford, and the other became 
Abbess of Poussay, in Lorraine. 

Into De Gramont's life now came again his brother- 
in-law, Anthony. The Hamilton family having taken 
refuge in France after the execution of Charles I., 
Anthony had spent his youth in that country, and be- 
came almost a Frenchman. After various experiences 
in English Court and army life under the Restoration 
and the reign of James II., ending with the disastrous 
battle of the Boyne, July i, 1690, he returned to France. 
Here he published divers romantic tales, which had 
considerable vogue. He also sought De Gramont, for 
whom he evidently had a great admiration, and who 
was at that time eighty years of age, but as un- 
conquerably gay and adventurous as in earlier years. 
Either at the Count's dictation (as he claimed) or 
with his cooperative revision, Hamilton wrote these 
vivid "Memoirs." Probably he was himself the chief 
author, since De Gramont, with all his wit, had no 
literary skill, while his wife's brother was a graceful 
writer as well as an intimate of the English court, 
familiar with all the persons and events described. 
The "Memoirs" were published in the original French 
in 1 71 3, about five years after De Gramont's death, 
and appeared the following year in an English trans- 



B INTRODUCTION 

lation. The essential value of this chronique scanda- 
leuse is that it is true, and presents a genuine depiction 
of a phase of English Court life during the reign of 
the second Charles, in contrast to the severities of 
Puritanism before it and the general course of English 
royal history thereafter. 

De Gramont died in 1707, at the age of eighty-six. 
Except during a brief interval where a serious ill- 
ness caused his formal reconciliation with the Church 
(which on his recovery soon slipped his mind), he was 
festive and debonair to the last. Ninon de I'Enclos, 
the famous Parisian, is reported to have said of him : 
**He was the only man who could affect the follies of 
youth without being ridiculous." While his utter 
freedom from the restraints of principle would have 
wrecked most men over and again, De Gramont's 
extraordinary gifts maintained him successfully, and 
have left him uniquely representative of that wanton- 
ness of aristocratic life that practically ended the 
Stuarts in England and finally whelmed the French 
monarchy in revolution. 



THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

MEMOIRS OF THE 
COUNT DE GRAMONT 

CHAPTER I 

AS those who read only for amusement are, in 
my opinion, more worthy of attention than 
^ those who open a book merely to find fault, to 
the former I address myself, and for their entertain- 
ment commit the following pages to press, without 
being in the least concerned about the severe criticisms 
of the latter. I further declare, that the order of time 
and disposition of the facts, which give more trouble 
to the writer than pleasure to the reader, shall not much 
embarrass me in these Memoirs. It being my design 
to convey a just idea of my hero, those circumstances 
which most tend to illustrate and distinguish his char- 
acter shall find a place in these fragments just as they 
present themselves to my imagination, without paying 
any particular attention to their arrangement. For, 
after all, what does it signify where the portrait is be- 
gun, provided the assemblage of the parts forms a 
whole which perfectly expresses the original? The 
celebrated Plutarch, who treats his heroes as he does 
his readers, commences the life of the one just as he 
thinks fit, and diverts the attention of the other with 
digressions into antiquity, or agreeable passages of 
literature, which frequently have no reference to the 
subject; for instance, he tells us that Demetrius Poli- 
orcetes was far from being so tall as his father^ Antig- 



8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

onus; and afterwards, that his reputed father, Antig- 
onus, was only his uncle; but this is not until he has 
begun his life with a short account of his death, his 
various exploits, his good and bad qualities ; and at last, 
out of compassion to his failings, brings forward a 
comparison between him and the unfortunate Mark 
Antony. 

In the life of Numa Pompilius, he begins by a dis- 
sertation upon his preceptor Pythagoras; and, as if 
he thought the reader would be anxious to know 
whether it was the ancient philosopher, or one of the 
same name, who, after being victorious at the Olympic 
games, went full speed into Italy to teach Numa philos- 
ophy, and instruct him in the arts of government, he 
gives himself much trouble to explain this difficulty, 
and, after all leaves it undetermined. 

What I have said upon this subject is not meant to 
reflect upon this historian, to whom, of all the ancients, 
we are most obliged; it is only intended to authorise 
the manner in which I have treated a life far more 
extraordinary than any of those he has transmitted to 
us. It is my part to describe a man whose inimitable 
character casts a veil over those faults which I shall 
neither palliate nor disguise ; a man distinguished by a 
mixture of virtues and vices so closely linked together 
as in appearance to form a necessary dependence, glow- 
ing with the greatest beauty when united, shining with 
the brightest lustre when opposed. 

It is this indefinable brilliancy, which, in war, in 
love, in gaming, and in the various stages of a long life, 
has rendered the Count de Gramont the admiration of 
his age, and the delight of every country wherein he has 
displayed his engaging wit, dispensed his generosity 
and magnificence, or practised his inconstancy: it is 
owing to this that the sallies of a sprightly imagination 
have produced those admirable hon mots which have 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 9 

been with universal applause transmitted to posterity. 
It is owing to this that he preserved his judgment free 
and unembarrassed in the most trying situations, and 
enjoyed an uncommon presence of mind and facetious- 
ness of temper in the most imminent dangers of war. 
I shall not attempt to draw his portrait: his person 
has been described by Bussi and Saint-Evremond/ 
authors more entertaining than faithful. The former 
has represented the Chevalier Gramont as artful, fickle, 
and even somewhat treacherous in his amours, and in- 
defatigable and cruel in his jealousies. Saint-Evre- 
mond has used other colours to express the genius and 
describe the general manners of the Count ; whilst both 
in their different pictures, have done greater honour 
to themselves than justice to their hero. 

It is, therefore, to the Count we must listen, in the 
agreeable relation of the sieges and battles wherein he 

* Voltaire, in the Age of Louis XIV. ch. xxiv., speaking of that 
monarch, says : " Even at the same time when he began to en- 
courage genius by his liberahty, the Count de Bussi was severely 
punished for the use he made of his; he was sent to the Bastille 
in 1664. The Amours of the Gauls was the pretence of his im- 
prisonment; but the true cause was the song in which the king 
was treated with too much freedom, and which, upon this occa- 
sion, was brought to remembrance to ruin Bussi, the reputed 
author of it. 

** Que Deodatus est heureux, 
De baiser ce bee amoureux, 
Qui d'une oreille a I'autre va! 

" See Deodatus with his billing dear, 
Whose amorous mouth breathes love from ear to ear! 

" His works were not good enough to compensate for the mis- 
chief they did him. H'e spoke his own language with purity : he 
had some merit, but more conceit: and he made no use of the 
merit he had, but to make himself enemies." Voltaire adds: 
"Bussi was released at the end of eighteen months; but he was 
in disgrace all the rest of his life, in vain protesting a regard for 
Louis XIV." Bussi died 1693. Of Saint-Evremond, see note, 
postea. 



lo THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

distinguished himself under another hero; and it is on 
him we must rely for the truth of passages the least 
glorious of his life, and for the sincerity with which he 
relates his address, vivacity, frauds, and the various 
stratagems he practised either in love or gaming. 
These express his true character, and to himself we 
owe these Memoirs, since I only hold the pen, while he 
directs it to the most remarkable and secret passages 
of his life. 



CHAPTER II 

IN those days affairs were not managed in France as 
at present. Louis XIII/ then sat upon the throne, 
but the Cardinal de RicheHeu'' governed the king- 
dom ; great men commanded Httle armies, and little ^ 
armies did great things : the fortune of great men de- 
pended solely upon ministerial favour, and blind de- 
votion to the will of the minister was the only sure 
method of advancement. Vast designs were then laying 
in the heart of neighbouring states the foundation of 
that formidable greatness to which France has now 
risen : the police was somewhat neglected ; the highways 
Avere impassable by day, and the streets by night; but 
robberies were committed elsewhere with greater im- 
punity. Young men, on their first entrance into the 

* Son and successor of Henry IV. He began to reign 14th 
May 1610, and died 14th May 1643. 

^ Of this great minister Hume gives the following character : 
" This man had no sooner, by suppleness and intrigue, gotten 
possession of the reins of government, than he formed at once 
three mighty projects : to subdue the turbulent spirits of the 
great ; to reduce the rebellious Huguenots ; and to curb the en- 
croaching power of the house of Austria. Undaunted and im- 
placable, prudent and active, he braved all the opposition of the 
French princes and nobles in the prosecution of his vengeance ; 
he discovered and dissipated all their secret cabals and con- 
spiracies. His sovereign himself he held in subjection, while he 
exalted the throne. The people, while they lost their liberties, 
acquired, by means of his administration, learning, order, dis- 
cipline, and renown. That confused and inaccurate genius of 
government, of which France partook in common with' other 
European kingdoms, he changed Into a simple monarchy, at the 
very time when the incapacity of Buckingham encouraged the 
free spirit of the comm.ons to establish in England a regular 
system of liberty" (History of England, vol. iv. p. 232). Car- 
dinal Richelieu died 1642. 

II 



12 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

world, took what course they thought proper. Who- 
ever would, was a chevaHer, and whoever could, an 
abbe : I mean a beneficed abbe : dress made no dis- 
tinction between them; and I believe the Chevalier 
Gramont was both the one and the other at the siege 
of Trino.* 

This was his first campaign, and here he displayed 
those attractive graces which so favourably prepossess, 
and require neither friends nor recommendations in any 
company to procure a favourable reception. The siege 
was already formed when he arrived, which saved him 
some needless risks ; for a volunteer cannot rest at ease 
until he has stood the first fire; he went therefore to 
reconnoitre the generals, having no occasion to recon- 
noitre the place. Prince Thomas* commanded the 
army; and as the post of lieutenant-general was not 
then known,' Du Plessis Pralin" and the famous 
Viscount Turenne' were his major-generals. Fortified 

•Trino was taken 4th May 1639. 

*0f Savoy, uncle of the reigning duke. H'e died 1656. 

^The rank of lieutenant-general was (according to the Me- 
moirs of Turenne) given to that general in the year 1638, 

® Afterwards Marechal and Duke de Choiseul. He retired from 
the army in 1672. Monsieur Henault, in his History of France, 
under that year, says : " Le Marechal du Plessis ne fit pas cette 
campagne a cause de son grand age; il dit au roi qu'il portoit 
fenvie a ses enfans, qui avoient I'honneur de servir sa majesty 
que pour lui il souhaitoit la mort, puisqu'il n'etoit plus bon a 
rien : le roi I'embrassa, et lui dit : 'M. le Marechal, on ne travaille 
que pour approcher de la reputation que vous aves acquise: il est 
agreahle de se reposer apres touts de victoires." 

''This great general was killed, 27th July 1675, by a cannon- 
shot, near the village of Salzbach, in going to choose a place 
whereon to erect a battery, " No one," says Voltaire, " is igno- 
rant of the circumstances of his death; but we cannot here 
refrain from a review of the principal of them, 'for the same 
reason that they are still talked of every day. It seems as if 
one could not too often repeat, that the same bullet which killed 
him, having shot off the arm of St. Hilaire, lieutenant-general 
of the artillery, his son came and bewailed his misfortune with 
many tears; but the father, looking towards Turenne said: 'It 
is not I, but that great man, who should be lamented.' These 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 13 

places were treated with some respect, before a power 
which nothing can withstand had found means to de- 
stroy them by dreadful showers of bombs, and by 
destructive batteries of hundreds of pieces of cannon. 
Before these furious storms which drive governors 
under ground and reduce their garrisons to powder, 
repeated sallies bravely repulsed, and vigorous attacks 
nobly sustained, signalised both the art of the besiegers 
and the courage of the besieged; consequently, sieges 
were of some length, and young men had an oppor- 
tunity of gaining some knowledge. Many brave ac- 
tions were performed on each side during the siege of 
Trino; a great deal of fatigue was endured, and con- 
siderable losses sustained; but fatigue was no more 
considered, hardships were no more felt in the trenches, 
gravity was at an end with the generals, and the troops 
were no longer dispirited after the arrival of the 
Chevalier Gramont. Pleasure was his pursuit, and 
he made it universal. 

Among the officers in the army, as in all other 

words may be compared with the most heroic sayings recorded 
in all history, and are the best eulogy that can be bestowed upon 
Turenne. It is uncommon, under a despotic government, where 
people are actuated only by their private interests, for those who 
have served their country to die regretted by the public. Never- 
theless, Turenne was lamented both by the soldiers and people; 
and Louvois was the only one who rejoiced at his death. The 
honours which the King ordered to be paid to his memory are 
known to every one; and that he was interred at St. Denis, in 
the same manner as the Constable du Guesclin, above whom he 
was elevated by the voice of the public, as much as the age of 
Turenne was superior to the age of the Constable." 

It appears, from the Memoirs of St. Hilaire, where Voltaire 
found his anecdote, that Count Hamilton was present at the death 
of Turenne. Monsieur de Boze had twice sent to Turenne, to 
beg him to come to the place where the battery was to be erected, 
which Turenne, as if by presentiment, declined. Count Hamilton 
brought the third anxious request from De Boze ; and in riding 
to the place where he was, Turenne received his death-blow. 
The horse of Montecuculi, the opposite general, was, in the 
course of the same day, killed by a cannon-shot. 



14 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

places, there are men of real merit, or pretenders to 
it. The latter endeavoured to imitate the Chevalier 
Gramont in his most shining qualities, but without 
success ; the former admired his talents and courted his 
friendship. Of this number was Matta." He was agree- 
able in his person, but still more by the natural turn 
of his wit ; he was plain and simple in his manners, but 
endued with a quick discernment and refined delicacy, 
and full of candour and integrity in all his actions. 
The Chevalier Gramont was not long in discovering 
his amiable qualities ; an acquaintance was soon formed, 
and was succeeded by the strictest intimacy. 

Matta insisted that the Chevalier should take up his 
quarters with him ; to which he only consented on con- 
' dition of equally contributing to the expense. As they 
were both liberal and magnificent, at their common cost 
they gave the best designed and most luxurious en- 
tertainments that had ever yet been seen. Play was 
wonderfully productive at first, and the Chevalier re- 
stored by a hundred different ways that which he 
obtained only by one. The generals, being entertained 
by turns, admired their magnificence, and were dissatis- 
fied with their own officers for not keeping such good 
tables and attendance. The Chevalier had the talent of 
setting off the most indifferent things to advantage; 
and his wit was so generally acknowledged, that it was 
a kind of disgrace not to submit to his taste. To him 
Matta resigned the care of furnishing the table and 

^The Count de Matta (b. 1614, ob. 1674) was the son of Claude 
de Bourdeille, Baron de Mastas, d'Aumargne and de Beaulieu. 
, He had served some time in the army when Gramont joined the 
forces at the siege of Trino. The combination of indolence and 
talent, of wit and simplicity, of bluntness and irony, with which 
the Count de Matta is represented, may have been derived from 
tradition, but could only have been united into the inimitable 
whole by the pen of Hamilton. He was like Gramont in many 
respects, particularly in regard to his stories and repartees. Sev- 
eral of his bon mots have been preserved; but the spirit evapo- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 15 

doing its honours ; and, charmed with the general ap- 
plause, persuaded himself that nothing could be more 
honourable than their way of living, and nothing more 
easy than to continue it. But he soon perceived that 
the greatest prosperity is not the most lasting. Good 
living, bad economy, dishonest servants, and ill-luck, 
all uniting together to disconcert their housekeeping, 
their table was going to be gradually laid aside, when 
the Chevalier's genius, fertile in resources, undertook 
to support his former credit by the following expedient. 
They had never yet conferred about the state of their 
finances, although the steward had acquainted each, 
separately, that he must either receive money to con- 
tinue the expenses, or give in his accounts. One day, 
when the Chevalier came home sooner than usual, he 
found Matta fast asleep in an easy-chair, and, being 
unwilling to disturb his rest, he began musing on his 
project. Matta awoke without his perceiving it; and 
having, for a short time, observed the deep contempla- 
tion he seemed involved in, and the profound silence 
between two persons who had never held their tongues 
for a moment when together before, he broke it by a 
sudden fit of laughter, which increased in proportion 
as the other stared at him. " A merry way of waking, 
and ludicrous enough," said the Chevalier ; * Vhat is the 

rates in translation. "Where could I get this nose?" said Ma- 
dame D'Albret, observing a slight tendency to a flush in that 
feature. "At the sideboard, Madame," answered Matta. When 
the same lady, in despair at her brother's death, refused all nour- 
ishment, Matta administered this blunt consolation : " If you are 
resolved, Madame, never again to swallow food, you do well ; but 
if ever you mean to eat upon any future occasion, believe me, 
you may as well begin just now." Madame Caylus, in her 
Souvenirs, commemorates the simple and natural humour of 
Matta as rendering him the most delightful society in the world. 
Mademoiselle de Montpensier, in her Memoirs, alludes to his 
pleasantry in conversation, and turn for deep gaming. For fuller 
particulars of the Count, see Notes and Queries, Series i. vol. x. 
pp. 138 and 157. 



i6 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

matter, and whom do you laugh at?'' "Faith, Chev- 
alier," said Matta, "I am laughing at a dream I had 
just now, which is so natural and diverting, that I 
must make you laugh at it also. I was dreaming that 
we had dismissed our maitre-d'hotel, our cook, and 
our confectioner, having resolved, for the remainder of 
the campaign, to live upon those as others have lived 
upon us : this was my dream. Now tell me. Chevalier, 
on what were you musing?" "Poor fellow!" said the 
Chevalier, shrugging up his shoulders, "you are 
knocked down at once, and thrown into the utmost 
consternation and despair at some silly stories which 
the maitre-d'hotel has been telling you as well as me. 
What! after the figure we have made In the face of the 
nobility and foreigners in the army, shall we give it 
up, and like fools and beggars sneak off, upon the first 
failure of our money! Have you no sentiments of 
honour? Where is the dignity of France?" "And 
where is the money?" said Matta; "for my men say, 
the devil may take them, if there be ten crowns in the 
house; and believe you have not much more, for it is 
above a week since I have seen you pull out your purse, 
or count your money, an amusement you were very 
fond of in prosperity." "I own all this," said the 
Chevalier, "but yet I will force you to confess, that 
you are but a mean-spirited fellow upon this occasion. 
What would have become of you If you had been 
reduced to the situation I was In at Lyons, four days 
before I arrived here? I will tell you the story." 



CHAPTER III 

**fT^HIS/' said Matta, "smells strongly of romance, 
I except that it should have been your squire's 
I -*- part to tell your adventures." "True," said 

the Chevalier; "however, I may acquaint you with my 
first exploits without offending my modesty; besides, 
my squire's style borders too much upon the burlesque 
for an heroic narrative. 

"You must know, then, that upon my arrival at 

Lyons " "Is it thus you begin?" said Matta. 

"Pray give us your history a little farther back. The 
most minute particulars of a life like yours are worthy 
of relation; but, above all, the manner in which you 
first paid your respects to Cardinal Richelieu: I have 
often laughed at it. However, you may pass over the 
unlucky pranks of your infancy, your genealogy, name 
and quality of your ancestors, for that is a subject with 
which you must be utterly unacquainted." 

"Pooh!" said the Chevalier; "you think that all 
the world is as ignorant as yourself ; — you think that I 
am a stranger to the Mendores* and the Corisandes. 
So, perhaps I don't know that it was my father's own 
fault that he was not the son of Henry IV. The King 
would by all means have acknowledged him for his son, 
but the traitor would never consent to it. See what 
the Gramonts would have been now, but for this cross- 
grained fellow ! They would have had precedence of 
the Caesars de Vendome." You may laugh, if you like, 

'M'enad d'Aure. 

'Caesar, Duke de Vendome, was the eldest son of Henry IV., 
by the celebrated Gabrielle d'Estre'es. He died in 1665. 

17 



i8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

yet it is as true as the gospel : but let us come to the 
point. 

'T was sent to the college at Pau,* with the inten- 
tion of being brought up to the Church; but as I had 
quite different views, I made no manner of improve- 
ment : gaming was so much in my head, that both my 
tutor and the master lost their labour in endeavouring 
to teach me Latin. Old Brinon, who served me both 
as valet-de-chambre and governor, in vain threatened 
to acquaint my mother. I only studied when I pleased, 
that is to say, seldom or never : however, they treated 
me as is customary with scholars of my quality ; I was 
raised to all the dignities of the forms, without having 
merited them, and left college nearly in the same state 
in which I entered it; nevertheless, I was thought to 
have more knowledge than was requisite for the abbacy 
which my brother had solicited for me. He had just 
married the niece of a minister," to whom every one 
cringed : he was desirous to present me to him. I felt 
but little regret to quit the country, and great im- 
patience to see Paris. My brother having kept me some 
time with him, in order to polish me, let me loose upon 
the town to shake off my rustic air, and learn the man- 
ners of the world. I so thoroughly gained them, that 
I could not be persuaded to lay them aside when I was 
introduced at Court in the character of an Abbe. You 
know what kind of dress was then the fashion. All 
that they could obtain of me was to put a cassock over 
my other clothes, and my brother, ready to die with 
laughing at my ecclesiastical habit, made others laugh 

* Pau was the capital of the principality of Beanie, and lies 
on an eminence on the Gave Bearnois, being indeed small and 
well built, and formerly the seat of a parliament, a bailiwick, 
and a chamber of accounts. In the palace here was born Henry 
IV. Exclusive of an academy of sciences and liberal arts, there 
was in it a college of Jesuits, with five convents and two hos- 
pitals. ^ Richelieu. 







"She suffered me to depart, under the protection of the Lord 
and the sage Brinon." 

— p. 20 
From the painting by C. Delort. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 19 

too. I had the finest head of hair in the world, well 
curled and powdered, above my cassock, and below 
were white buskins and gilt spurs. The Cardinal,^ 
who had a quick discernment, could not help laugh- 
ing. This elevation of sentiment gave him umbrage; 
and he foresaw what might be expected from a genius 
that already laughed at the shaven crown and cowl. 

*'When my brother had taken me home, 'Well, my 
little parson,' said he, 'you have acted your part to 
admiration, and your parti-coloured dress of the eccle- 
siastic and soldier has greatly diverted the Court; but 
this is not all : you must now choose, my little knight. 
Consider then, whether, by sticking to the Church, 
you will possess great revenues, and have nothing to 
do; or, with a small portion, you will risk the loss of 
a leg or arm, and be the fructus belli of an insensible 
court, to arrive in your old age at the dignity of a 
major-general, with a glass eye and a wooden leg/ 
*I know,' said I, 'that there is no comparison between 
these two situations, with regard to the conveniences of 
life; but as a man ought to secure his future state in 
preference to all other considerations, I am resolved to 
renounce the Church for the salvation of my soul, upon 
condition, however, that I keep my abbacy.' Neither 
the remonstrances nor authority of my brother could 
induce me to change my resolution ; and he was forced 
to agree to this last article in order to keep me at the 
academy. You know that I am the most adroit man 
in France, so that I soon learned all that is taught at 
such places, and, at the same time, I also learnt that 
which gives the finishing stroke to a young fellow's 
education, and makes him a gentleman, viz., all sorts 
of games, both at cards and dice; but the truth is, I 
thought, at first, that I had more skill in them than I 
really had, as experience proved. When my mother 



20 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

knew the choice I had made, she was inconsolable; 
for she reckoned, that had I been a clergyman I should 
have been a saint; but now she was certain that I 
should either be a devil in the world, or be killed in the 
wars. And indeed I burned with impatience to be a 
soldier ; but being yet too young, I was forced to make 
a campaign at Bidache^ before I made one in the army. 
When I returned to my mother's house, I had so much 
the air of a courtier and a man of the world, that she 
began to respect me instead of chiding me for my in- 
fatuation towards the army. I became her favourite, 
and finding me inflexible, she only thought of keeping 
me with her as long as she could, while my little 
equipage was preparing. The faithful Brinon, who was 
to attend me as valet-de-chambre, was likewise to dis- 
charge the office of governor and equerry, being, per- 
haps, the only Gascon who was ever possessed of so 
much gravity and ill-temper. He passed his word for 
my good behaviour and morality, and promised my 
mother that he would give a good account of my person 
in the dangers of the war ; but I hope he will keep his 
word better as to this last article than he has done as 
to the former. 

"My equipage was sent away a week before me. 
This was so much time gained by my mother to give 
me good advice. At length, after having solemnly 
enjoined me to have the fear of God before my eyes, 
and to love my neighbour as myself, she suffered me to 
depart, under the protection of the Lord and the sage 
Brinon. At the second stage we quarrelled. He had 
received four hundred louis d'or* for the expenses of 
the campaign: I wished to have the keeping of them 

'A principality belonging to the family of the Gramonts, in 
the province of Gascony. 
^*Here, and elsewhere, should be pistoles: the value of about 
* eight shillings, or two dollars. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 21 

myself, which he strenuously opposed. 'Thou old 
scoundrel/ said I, 'is the money thine, or was it given 
you for me? You suppose I must have a treasurer, 
and receive no money without his order/ I know not 
whether it was from a presentiment of what afterwards 
happened that he g-rew melancholy; however, it was 
with the greatest reluctance and the most poignant 
anguish, that he found himself obliged to yield. One 
would have thought that I had wrested his very soul 
from him. I found myself more light and merry after 
I had eased him of his trust; he, on the contrary, ap- 
peared so overwhelmed with grief, that it seemed as if 
I had laid four hundred pounds of lead upon his back, 
instead of taking away these four hundred louis.* He 
went on so heavily, that I was forced to whip his horse 
myself, and turning to me, now and then, *Ah! sir,' 
said he, *my lady did not think it would be so.' His 
reflections and sorrows were renewed at every stage; 
for, instead of giving a shilling" to the post-boy, I gave 
him half-a-crown." 

"Having at last reached Lyons, two soldiers stopped 
us at the gate of the city, to carry us before the govern- 
nor. I took one of them to conduct me to the best inn, 
and delivered Brinon into the hands of the other, to 
acquaint the commandant with the particulars of my 
journey, and my future intentions. 

'There are as good taverns at Lyons as at Paris; 
but my soldier, according to custom, carried me to a 
friend of his own, whose house he extolled as having 
the best accommodations, and the greatest resort of 
good company in the whole town. The master of this 
hotel was as big as a hogshead, his name Cerise; a 
Swiss by birth, a poisoner by profession, and a thief by 
custom. He showed me into a tolerably neat room, 
and desired to know whether I pleased to sup by myself 

* Pistoles. "Ten sols. "Thirty (Vizetelly's translation). 



22 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

or at the ordinary. I chose the latter, on account of 
the beau monde which the soldier had boasted of. 

"Brinon, who was quite out of temper at the many 
questions which the governor had asked him, returned 
more surly than an old ape; and seeing that I was 
dressing my hair, in order to go downstairs : 'What are 
you about now, sir?' said he. *Are you going to tramp 
about the town ? No, no ; have we not had tramping 
enough ever since the morning? Eat a bit of supper, 
and go to bed betimes, that you may get on horseback 
by daybreak.' *Mr. Comptroller,' said I, T shall 
neither tramp about the town, nor eat alone, nor go to 
bed early. I intend to sup with the company below/ 
*At the ordinary !' cried he ; T beseech you, sir, do not 
think of it! Devil take me, if there be not a dozen 
brawling fellows playing at cards and dice, who make 
noise enough to drown the loudest thunder !' 

"I had grown insolent since I had seized the money ; 
and being desirous to shake off the yoke of a governor, 
'Do you know, Mr. Brinon,' said I, 'that I don't like a 
blockhead to set up for a reasoner? Do you go to 
supper, if you please; but take care that I have post- 
horses ready before daybreak.' The moment he men- 
tioned cards and dice, I felt the money burn in my 
pocket. I was somewhat surprised, however, to find the 
room where the ordinary was served filled with odd- 
looking creatures. My host, after presenting me to 
the company, assured me that there were but eighteen 
or twenty of those gentlemen who would have the 
honour to sup with me. I approached one of the tables 
where they were playing, and thought I should have 
died with laughing : I expected to have seen good com- 
pany and deep play ; but I only met with two Germans 
playing at backgammon. Never did two country 
boobies play like them; but their figures beggared all 
description. The fellow near whom I stood was short, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 23 

thick, and fat, and as round as a ball, with a ruff, and 
a prodigious high-crowned hat. Any one, at a moder- 
ate distance, would have taken him for the dome of a 
church, with the steeple on the top of it. I inquired of 
the host who he was. 'A merchant from Basle,' said 
he, 'who comes hither to sell horses; but from the 
method he pursues, I think he will not dispose of many ; 
for he does nothing but play.' 'Does he play deep?' 
said I. 'Not now,' said he ; 'they are only playing for 
their reckoning, while supper is getting ready; but he 
has no objection to play as deep as any one.' 'Has he 
money?' said I. 'As for that,' replied the treacherous 
Cerise, 'would to God you had won a thousand pistoles 
of him, and I went you halves ; we should not be long 
without our money.' I wanted no further encourage- 
ment to meditate the ruin of the high-crowned hat. I 
went nearer to him, in order to take a closer survey; 
never was such a bungler ; he made mistake after mis- 
take; God knows, I began to feel some remorse at 
winning of such an ignoramus, who knew so little of 
the game. He lost his reckoning; supper was served 
up; and I desired him to sit next me. It was a long 
table, and there were at least five-and-twenty in com- 
pany, notwithstanding the landlord's promise. The 
most execrable repast that ever was begun being fin- 
ished, all the crowd insensibly dispersed, except the 
little Swiss, who still kept near me, and the landlord, 
who placed himself on the other side of me. They both 
smoked like dragoons; and the Swiss was continually 
saying, in bad French, 'I ask your pardon, sir, for my 
great freedom,' at the same time blowing such whiffs 
of tobacco in my face as almost suffocated me. Mr. 
Cerise, on the other hand, desired he might take the 
liberty of asking me whether I had ever been in his 
country ? and seemed surprised I had so genteel an air, 
without having travelled in Switzerland. 



24 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

"The little chub I had to encounter was full as 
inquisitive as the other. He desired to know whether 
I came from the army in Piedmont; and having told 
him I was going thither, he asked me, whether I had 
a mind to buy any horses ; that he had about twO' hun- 
dred to dispose of, and that he would sell them cheap. 
I began to be smoked like a gammon of bacon; and 
being quite wearied out, both with their tobacco and 
their questions, I asked my companion if he would play 
for a single pistole at backgammon, while our men 
were supping ; it was not without great ceremony that 
he consented, at the same time asking my pardon for 
his great freedom. 

"I won the game; I gave him his revenge, and won 
again. We then played double or quits, and I won 
that too, and all in the twinkling of an eye ; for he grew 
vexed, and suffered himself to be taken in so that I 
began to bless my stars for my good fortune. Brinon 
came in about the end of the third game, to put me to 
bed; he made a great sign of the cross, but paid no 
attention to the signs I made him tO' retire. I was 
forced to rise to give him that order in private. He 
began to reprimand me for disgracing myself by keep- 
ing company with such a low-bred wretch. It was in 
vain that I told him he was a great merchant, that he 
had a great deal of money, and that he played like a 
child. *He a merchant !' cried Brinon. 'Do not believe 
that, sir! May the devil take me, if he is not some 
conjurer.' *Hold your tongue, old fool,' said I; *he is 
no more a conjurer than you are, and that is decisive ; 
and, to prove it to you, I am resolved to win four or 
five hundred pistoles of him before I go to bed.' With 
these words I turned him out, strictly enjoining him 
not to return, or in any manner tO' disturb us. 

"The game being done, the little Swiss unbuttoned 
his pockets, to pull out a new four-pistole piece, and 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 25 

presenting it to me, he asked my pardon for his great 
freedom, and seemed as if he wished to retire. This 
was not what I wanted. I told him we only played 
for amusement; that I had no design upon his money ; 
and that, if he pleased, I would play him a single game 
for his four pistoles. He raised some objections; but 
consented at last, and won back his money. I was 
piqued at it. I played another game ; fortune changed 
sides; the dice ran for him, he made no more errors. 
I lost the game; another game, and double or quits; 
we doubled the stake, and played double or quits again. 
I was vexed; he, like a true gamester, took every bet 
I offered, and won all before him, without my getting 
more than six points in eight or ten games. I asked 
him to play a single game for one hundred pistoles; 
but as he saw I did not stake, he told me it was late ; 
that he must go and look after his h'orses; and went 
away, still asking my pardon for his great freedom. 
The cool manner of his refusal, and the politeness with 
which he took his leave, provoked me to such a degree, 
that I could almost have killed him. I was so con- 
founded at losing my money so fast, even to the last 
pistole, that I did not immediately consider the miser- 
able situation to which I was reduced. 

"I durst not go up to my chamber for fear of Brinon. 
By good luck, however, he was tired with waiting for 
me, and had gone to bed. This was some consolation, 
though but of short continuance. As soon as I was 
laid down, all the fatal consequences of my adventure 
presented themselves to my Imagination. I could not 
sleep. I saw all the horrors of my misfortune, without 
being able to find any remedy; In vain did I rack my 
brain; It supplied me with no expedient. I feared 
nothing so much as daybreak; however. It did come, 
and the cruel Brinon along with It. He was booted 
up to the middle, and cracking a cursed whip, which 



26 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

he held in his hand, 'Up, Monsieur le Chevalier,' cried 
he, opening the curtains; 'the horses are at the door, 
and you are still asleep. We ought by this time to have 
ridden two stages; give me money to pay the reckon- 
ing/ 'Brinon,' said I, in a dejected tone, *draw the 
curtains/ What!' cried he, 'draw the curtains! Do 
you intend, then, to make your campaign at Lyons? 
you seem to have taken a liking to the place. And 
for the great merchant, you have stripped him, I sup- 
pose? No, no. Monsieur le Chevalier, this money will 
never do you any good. This wretch has perhaps a 
family; and it is his children's bread that he has been 
playing with, and that you have won. Was this an 
object to sit up all night for? What. would my lady 
say if she knew what a life you lead?' 'M. Brinon,' 
said I, 'pray draw the curtains.' But instead of obey- 
ing me, one would have thought that the devil had 
prompted him to use the most pointed and galling terms 
to a person under such misfortunes. 'And how much 
have you won ?' said he ; 'five hundred pistoles ? What 
must the poor man do? Recollect, Monsieur le Chev- 
alier, what I have said, this money will never thrive 
with you. It is, perhaps, but four hundred? three? 
two? Well, if it be but one hundred pistoles,' con- 
tinued he, seeing that I shook my head at every sum 
which he had named, 'there is no great mischief done ; 
one hundred pistoles will not ruin him, provided you 
have won them fairly.' 'Friend Brinon,' said I, fetch- 
ing a deep sigh, 'draw the curtains ; I am unworthy to 
see daylight.' Brinon was much affected at these mel- 
ancholy words, but I thought he would have fainted, 
when I told him the whole adventure. He tore his 
hair, made grievous lamentations, the burden of which 
still was, 'What will my lady say?' And, after having 
exhausted his unprofitable complaints, *What will be- 
come of you now, Monsieur le Chevalier?' said he, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 27 

'what do you intend to do ?' 'Nothing/ said I ; *for I 
am fit for nothing.' After this, being somewhat eased 
after making him my confession, I thought upon sev- 
eral projects, to none of which could I gain his ap- 
probation. I would have had him post after my equi- 
page, to have sold some of my clothes. I was for pro- 
posing to the horse-dealer to buy some horses of him 
at a high price on credit, to sell again cheap. Brinon 
laughed at all these schemes, and after having had the 
cruelty of keeping me upon the rack for a long time, 
he at last extricated me. Parents are always stingy 
towards their poor children; my mother intended to 
have given me five hundred louis d'or,'"" but she had 
kept back fifty as well for some little repairs in the 
abbey, as to pay for praying for me. Brinon had the 
charge of the other fifty, with strict injunctions not to 
speak of them, unless upon some urgent necessity. And 
this you see soon happened. 

"Thus you have a brief account of my first adventure. 
Play has hitherto favoured me ; for, since my arrival, I 
have had, at one time, after paying all my expenses, 
fifteen hundred louis d'or.""^ Fortune is now again be- 
come unfavourable, we must mend her. Our cash runs 
low ; we must, therefore, endeavour to recruit." 

"Nothing is more easy," said Matta; "it is only to 
find out such another dupe as the horse-dealer at 
Lyons; but now I think of it, has not the faithful 
Brinon some reserve for the last extremity? Faith, 
the time is now come, and we cannot do better than to 
make use of it." 

"Your raillery would be very seasonable," said the 
Chevalier, "if you knew how to extricate us out of this 
difficulty. You must certainly have an overflow of 
wit, to be throwing it away upon every occasion as 
at present. What the devil ! will you always be banter- 
" Pistoles. "About £1425. 



28 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

ing, without considering what a serious situation we 
are reduced to. Mind what I say, I will go to-morrow 
to the headquarters, I will dine with the Count de 
Cameran, and I will invite him to supper." "Where?" 
said Matta. ''Here/' said the Chevalier. "You are 
mad, my poor friend," replied Matta. "This is some 
such project as you formed at Lyons: you know we 
have neither money nor credit ; and, to re-establish our 
circumstances, you intend to give a supper." 

"Stupid fellow!" said the Chevalier, "is it possible, 
that, so long as we have been acquainted, you should 
have learned no more invention. The Count de Cam- 
eran plays at quinze, and so do I. We want money. 
He has more than he knows what to do with. I will 
bespeak a splendid supper; he shall pay for it. Send 
your maitre-d'hotel to me, and trouble yourself no fur- 
ther, except in some precautions, which it is necessary 
to take on such an occasion." "What are they?" said 
Matta. "I will tell you," said the Chevalier ; "for I find 
one must explain to you things that are as clear as 
noonday. 

"You command the guards that are here, don't you ? 
As soon as night comes on, you shall order fifteen or 
twenty men, under the command of your sergeant La 
Place, to be under arms, and to lay themselves flat on 
the ground, between this place and the headquarters." 
"What the devil?" cried Matta, "an ambuscade? God 
forgive me, I believe you Intend to rob the poor Savoy- 
ard. If that be your intention, I declare I will have 
nothing to say to it." "Poor devil !" said the Chevalier, 
"the matter is this ; It Is very likely that we shall win 
his money. The Piedmontese, though otherwise good 
fellows, are apt to be suspicious and distrustful. He 
commands the horse. You know you cannot hold 
your tongue, and are very likely to let slip some jest 
or other that may vex him. Should he take It Into his 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 29 

head that he is cheated, and resent it, who knows what 
the consequences might be ? for he is commonly attend- 
ed by eight or ten horsemen. Therefore, however much 
as he may be provoked at his loss, it is proper to be in 
such a situation as not to dread his resentment." 

"Embrace me, my dear Chevalier," said Matta, hold- 
ing his sides and laughing ; "embrace me, for thou art 
not to be matched. What a fool I was to think, when 
you talked to me of taking precautions, that nothing 
more was necessary than to prepare a table and cards, 
or perhaps to provide some false dice ! I should never 
have thought of supporting a man who plays at quinze 
by a detachment of foot : I must, indeed, confess that 
you are already a great soldier/* 

The next day everything happened as the Chevalier 
Gramont had planned it ; the unfortunate Cameran fell 
into the snare. They supped in the most agreeable 
manner possible: Matta drank five or six bumpers to 
drown a few scruples which made him somewhat un- 
easy. The Chevalier de Gramont shone as usual, and 
almost made his guest die with laughing, whom he was 
soon after to make very serious, and the good-natured 
Cameran ate like a man whose affections were divided 
between good cheer and a love of play ; that is to say, 
he hurried down his victuals, that he might not lose 
any of the precious time which he had devoted to 
quinze. 

Supper being done, the Sergeant La Place posted his 
ambuscade, and the Chevalier de Gramont engaged his 
man. The perfidy of Cerise, and the high-crowned hat, 
were still fresh in remembrance, and enabled him to get 
the better of a few grains of remorse, and conquer some 
scruples which arose in his mind. Matta, unwilling to 
be a spectator of violated hospitality, sat down in an 
easy chair, in order to fall asleep, while the Chevalier 
was stripping the poor Count of his money. 



'30 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

They only staked three or four pistoles at first, 
just for amusement; but Cameran having lost three 
or four times, he staked high, and the game became 
serious. He still lost, and became outrageous; the 
cards flew about the room, and the exclamations awoke 
Matta. 

As his head was heavy with sleep, and hot with wine, 
he began to laugh at the passion of the Piedmontese, 
instead of consoling him. ''Faith, my poor Count," 
said he, "if I were in your place, I would play no 
more." "Why so?" said the other. "I don't know," 
said he, "but my heart tells me that your ill-luck will 
continue." "I will try that," said Cameran, calling for 
fresh cards. "Do so," said Matta, and fell asleep again. 
It was but for a short time. All cards were equally 
unfortunate for the loser. He held none but tens or 
court-cards; and if by chance he had quinze, he was 
sure to be the weaker hand, and therefore lost it. Again 
he stormed. "Did not I tell you so?" said Matta, start- 
ing out of his sleep. "All your storming is in vain; 
as long as you play you will lose. Believe me, the 
shortest follies are the best. Leave off, for the devil 
take me if it is possible for you to win." "Why?" said 
Cameran, who began to be impatient. "Do you wish 
to know ?" said Matta ; "why, faith, it is because we are 
cheating you." 

The Chevalier de Gramont was provoked at so ill- 
timed a jest, more especially as it carried along with 
it some appearance of truth. "Mr. Matta," said he, 
"do you think it can be very agreeable for a man who 
plays with such ill-luck as the Count, to be pestered 
with your insipid jests? For my part, I am so weary 
of the game that I would desist immediately, if he was 
not so great a loser." Nothing is more dreaded by a 
losing gamester than such a threat ; and the Count, in a 
softened tone, told the Chevalier that Mr. Matta might 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 31 

say what he pleased, if he did not offend him; that as 
to himself, it did not give him the smallest uneasiness. 

The Chevalier de Gramont gave the Count far better 
treatment than he himself had experienced from the 
Swiss at Lyons ; for he played upon credit as long as 
he pleased, which Cameran took so kindly, that he lost 
fifteen hundred pistoles, and paid them the next morn- 
ing. As for Matta, he w^as severely reprimanded for 
the intemperance of his tongue. All the reason he gave 
for his conduct was, that he made it a point of con- 
science not to suffer the poor Savoyard to be cheated 
without informing him of it. "Besides," said he, "it 
would have given me pleasure to have seen my infantry 
engaged with his horse, if he had been inclined to 
mischief." 

This adventure having recruited their finances, for- 
tune favoured them the remainder of the campaign, and 
the Chevalier de Gramont, to prove that he had only 
seized upon the Count's money by way of reprisal, and 
to indemnify himself for the losses he had sustained 
at Lyons, began from this time to make the same use 
of his money, that he has been known to do since upon 
all occasions. He found out the distressed in order 
to relieve them; officers who had lost their equipages 
in the war, or their money at play ; soldiers who were 
disabled in the trenches; in short every one felt the 
influence of his benevolence: but his manner of con- 
ferring a favour exceeded even the favour itself. 

Every man possessed of such amiable qualities must 
meet with success in all his undertakings. The soldiers 
knew his merits and adored him. The generals were 
sure to meet him in every scene of action, and sought 
his company at other times. As soon as fortune de- 
clared for him, his first care was to make restitution, 
by desiring Cameran to go halves in all parties where 
the odds were in his favour. 



2,2 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

An inexhaustible fund of vivacity and good-humour 
gave a certain air of novelty to whatever he either said 
or did. I know not on what occasion it was that Mon- 
sieur de Turenne, towards the end of the siege, com- 
manded a separate body. The Chevalier de Gramont 
went to visit him at his new quarters, where he found 
fifteen or twenty officers. M. de Turenne was naturally 
fond of merriment, and the Chevalier's presence was 
sure to inspire it. He was much pleased with this visit, 
and by way of acknowledgment, would have engaged 
him to play. 

The Chevalier de Gramont, in returning him thanks, 
said that he had learned from his tutor, that when 
a man went to see his friends, it was neither prudent 
to leave his own money behind him, nor civil to carry 
off theirs. "Truly," said Monsieur de Turenne, "you 
will find neither deep play nor much money among 
us ; but, that it may not be said that we suffered you 
to depart without playing, let us stake every one a 
horse." 

The Chevalier de Gramont agreed. Fortune, who 
had followed him to a place wEere he did not think 
he should have any need of her, made him win fifteen 
or sixteen horses, by way of joke; but seeing some 
countenances disconcerted at the loss, "Gentlemen," 
said he, "I should be sorry to see you return on foot 
from your general's quarters ; it will be enough for me 
if you send me your horses to-morrow, except one, 
which I give for the cards." 

The valet-de-chambre thought he was bantering. "I 
speak seriously," said the Chevalier, "I give you a 
horse for the cards ; and, what is more, take whichever 
you please, except my own." "Truly," said Monsieur 
de Turenne, "I am vastly pleased with the novelty of 
the thing; for I don't believe that a horse was ever 
before given for the cards." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 33 

Trlno surrendered at last. The Baron de Batteville,^ 
who had defended it vaHantly, and for a long time, 
obtained a capitulation worthy of such a resistance. 
I do not know whether the Chevalier de Gramont had 
any share in the capture of this place ; but I know very 
well, that during a more glorious reign, and with 
armies ever victorious, his intrepidity and address have 
been the cause of taking others since, even under the 
eye of his master, as we shall see in the sequel of these 
Memoirs. 

^* Correctly speaking, Watteville from Wattenveil in ThurgO'- 
via. This officer appears to have been the same person who was 
afterwards ambassador from Spain to the Court of Great 
Britain, where he offended the French Court, by claiming pre- 
cedence of their ambassador. Count d'Estrades, on the public 
entry of the Swedish ambassador into London, on 30th Sep- 
tember 1661 {vide Pepys' Diary). On this occasion the Court 
of France compelled its rival of Spain to submit to the mortify- 
ing circumstance of acknowledging the French superiority. To 
commemorate this important victory, Louis XIV. caused a medal 
to be struck, representing the Spanish ambassador, the Marquis 
de Fuente, making the declaration to that king, "No concurrer 
con los ambassadores des de Francia," with this inscription, 
"Jus praecedendi assertum," and under it, "Hispaniorum ex- 
cusatio coram xxx legatis principum, 1662." Evelyn drew up an 
account of the fray by royal command, which is given at the end 
of his Diary. See also Jussferand's French Ambassador. 
Clarendon, speaking of Baron de Watteville, says he was born 
in Burgundy, in the Spanish quarters, and bred a soldier, in 
which profession he was an officer of note, and at that time was 
governor of St. Sebastian, and of that province. " He seemed a 
rough man, and to have more of the camp, but, in truth, knew 
the intrigues of a court better than most Spaniards; and, except 
when his passion surprised him, was wary and cunning in his 
negotiation. He lived with less reservation and more jollity 
than the ministers of that crown used to do, and drew such of 
the Court to his table and conversation as he observed to be 
loud talkers, and confident enough in the King's presence" 
{Continuation of Clarendon, p. 84.) 



CHAPTER IV 

MILITARY glory is at most but one-half of the 
accomplishments which distinguish heroes. 
Love must give the finishing stroke, and 
adorn their character by the difficulties they encounter, 
the temerity of their enterprises, and finally, by the 
lustre of success. We have examples of this, not only 
in romances, but also in the genuine histories of the 
most famous warriors, and the most celebrated con- 
querors. 

The Chevalier de Gramont and Matta, who did not 
think much of these examples, were, however, of opin- 
ion, that it would be very agreeable to refresh them- 
selves after the fatigues of the siege of Trino, by form- 
ing some other sieges, at the expense of the beauties 
and the husbands of Turin. As the campaign had fin- 
ished early, they thought they should have time to 
perform some exploits before the bad weather obliged 
them to repass the mountains. 

They sallied forth, therefore, not unlike Amadis de 
Gaul or Don Galaor after they had been dubbed 
knights, eager in their search after adventures in love, 
war, and enchantments. They were greatly superior 
to those two brothers, who only knew how to cleave 
in twain giants, to break lances, and to carry off fair 
damsels behind them on horseback, without saying a 
single word to them : whereas our heroes were adepts 
at cards and dice, of which the others were totally 
ignorant. 

They went to Turin, met with an agreeable re- 
ception, and were greatly distinguished at Court. 

34 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 35 

Could it be otherwise? They were young and hand- 
some ; they had wit at command, and spent their money 
liberally. In what country will not a man succeed, 
possessing such advantages? As Turin was at that 
time the seat of gallantry and of love, two strangers 
of this description, who were always cheerful, brisk, 
and lively, could not fail to please the ladies of the 
Court. 

Though the men of Turin were extremely handsome, 
they were not, however, possessed of the art of pleas- 
ing. They treated their wives with respect, and were 
courteous to strangers. Their wives, still more hand- 
some, were full as courteous to strangers, and less re- 
spectful to their husbands. 

Madame Royale,^ a worthy daughter of Henry IV., 
rendered her little court the most agreeable in the 
world. She inherited such of her father's virtues as 
compose the proper ornament of her sex; and with 
regard to what are termed the foibles of great souls, 
her Highness had in no wise degenerated. 

The Count de Tanes was her prime minister. It 
was not difficult to conduct affairs of state during his 
administration. No complaints were alleged against 
him; and the princess, satisfied with his conduct her- 
self, was, above all, glad to have her choice approved 

* Christina, second daughter of Henry IV., married to Victor 
Amadeus, Prince of Piedmont, afterwards Duke of Savoy. She 
seems to have been well entitled to the character here given of 
her. Keysler, in his Travels, vol. i. p. 239, speaking of a fine 
villa, called La Vigne^ de Madame Royale, near Turin, says : 
" During the minority under the regent Christina, both the 
house and garden were often the scenes of riot and debauchery. 
On this account, in the king's advanced age, when he was, as it 
were, inflamed with an external flame of religion, with which 
possibly the admonitions of his father-confessor might concur, 
this place became so odious to him, that, upon the death of 
Madame Royale, he bestowed it on the hospital." She died in 
1663. 

^ Probably " La Venerie " mentioned on p. 38. 

2 — Memoirs Vol. 4 



;36 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

by her whole Court, where people lived nearly accord- 
ing to the manners and customs of ancient chivalry. 

The ladies had each a professed lover, for fashion's 
sake, besides volunteers, whose numbers were unlim- 
ited. The declared admirers wore their mistresses' 
liveries, their arms, and sometimes even took their 
names. Their office was, never to quit them in public, 
and never to approach them in private; to be their 
squires upon all occasions, and, in jousts and tourna- 
ments, to adorn their lances, their housings, and their 
coats, with the ciphers and the colours of their dul- 
cineas. 

Matta was far from being averse to gallantry ; but 
would have liked it more simple than as it was practised 
at Turin. The ordinary forms would not have troubled 
him; but he found here a sort of superstition in the 
ceremonies and worship of love, which he thought very 
inconsistent: however, as he had submitted his con- 
duct in that matter to the direction of the Chevalier 
de Gramont, he was obliged to follow his example, and 
to conform to the customs of the country. 

They enlisted themselves at the same time in the 
service of two beauties, whose former squires gave 
them up immediately from motives of politeness. The 
Chevalier de Gramont chose Mademoiselle de Saint- 
Germain, and told Matta to offer his services to 
Madame de Senantes. Matta consented, though he 
liked the other better; but the Chevalier de Gramont 
persuaded him that Madame de Senantes was more 
suitable for him. As he had reaped advantage from 
the Chevalier's talents in the first projects they had 
formed, he resolved to follow his instructions in love, 
as he had done his advice in play. 

Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain was in the bloom 
of youth; her eyes were sftiall, but very bright and 
sparkling, and, like her hair, were black; her com- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 37 

plexion was lively and clear, though not fair ; she had 
an agreeable mouth, two fine rows of teeth, a neck as 
handsome as one could wish, and a most delightful 
shape; she had a particular elegance in her elbows, 
which, however, she did not show to advantage; her 
hands were rather large and not very white ; her feet, 
though not of the smallest, were well shaped. She 
trusted to Providence, and used no art to set off those 
graces which she had received from nature; but, not- 
withstanding her negligence in the embellishment of 
her charms, there was something so lively in her per- 
son, that the Chevalier de Gramont was caught at first 
sight. Her wit and humour corresponded with her 
other qualities, being quite easy and perfectly charm- 
ing; she was all mirth, all life, all complaisance, and 
politeness, and all was natural, and always the same 
without any variation. 

The Marchioness de Senantes* was esteemed fair, 
and she might have enjoyed, if she had pleased, the 
reputation of having red hair, had she not rather chosen 
to conform to the taste of the age in which she lived 
than to follow that of the ancients : she had all the 
advantages of red hair without any of the incon- 
veniences; a constant attention to her person served 
as a corrective to the natural defects of her complexion. 
After all, what does it signify, whether cleanliness be 
owing to nature or to art ? it argues an invidious temper 
to be very inquisitive about it. She had a great deal of 
wit, a good memory, more reading, and a still greater 
inclination towards tenderness. 

She had a husband whom it would have been crim- 
inal even in chastity to spare. He piqued himself upon 
being a Stoic, and gloried in being slovenly and dis- 

^Walpole said the family of Senantes still remained in Pied- 
mont in his time, and were represented by the Marquis de 
Carailles. 



38 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

gusting in honour of his profession. In this he suc- 
ceeded to admiration; for he was very fat, so that he 
perspired almost as much in winter as in summer. 
Erudition and brutahty seemed to be the most con- 
spicuous features of his character, and were displayed 
in his conversation, sometimes together, sometimes al- 
ternately, but always disagreeably; he was not jealous, 
and yet he was troublesome; he was very well pleased 
to see attentions paid to his wife, provided more were 
paid to him. 

As soon as our adventurers had declared themselves, 
the Chevalier de Gramont arrayed himself in green 
habiliments, and dressed Matta in bluCj these being the 
favourite colours of their new mistresses. They en- 
tered immediately upon duty. The Chevalier learned 
and practised all the ceremonies of this species of gal- 
lantry, as if he always had been accustomed to them ; 
but Matta commonly forgot one-half, and was not 
over perfect in practising the other. He never could 
remember that his office was to promote the glory, and 
not the interest, of his mistress. 

The Duchess of Savo}^ gave the very next day an 
entertainment at La Venerie,' where all the ladies were 
invited. The Chevalier was so agreeable and divert- 
ing, that he made his mistress almost die with laugh- 
ing. Matta, in leading his lady to the coach, squeezed 
her hand, and at their return from the promenade he 

^This place is thus described by Keysler, Travels, vol. i. p. 
235: "The palace most frequented by the royal family is La 
Venerie, the court gen'erally continuing there from the spring 
to December. It is about a league from Turin : the road that 
leads to it is well paved, and the greatest part of it planted with 
trees on 'each side : it is not always in a direct line, but runs a 
little winding between fine meadows, fields, and vineyards." 
After describing the palace as it then was, he adds : " The 
palace garden at present consists only of hedges and walks, 
whereas formerly it had fine water-works and grottos, besides 
the fountain of Hercules and the temple of Diana, of which a 
description may be seen in the * Nouveau Theatre de Piedmont' 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 39 

begged of her to pity his sufferings. This was pro- 
ceeding rather too precipitately, and although Madame 
de Senantes was not destitute of the natural compas- 
sion of her sex, she nevertheless was shocked at the 
familiarity of this treatment. She thought herself 
obliged to show some degree of resentment, and pull- 
ing away her hand, which he had pressed with still 
greater fervency upon this declaration, she went up 
to the royal apartments without even looking at her 
new lover. Matta, never thinking that he had offended 
her, suffered her to go, and went in search of some 
company to sup with him : nothing was more easy for 
a man of his disposition; he soon found what he 
wanted, sat a long time at table to refresh himself 
after the fatigues of love, and went to bed completely 
satisfied that he had performed his part to perfection. 

During all this time the Chevalier de Gramont ac- 
quitted himself towards Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain 
with universal applause; and without remitting his 
assiduities, he found means to shine^ as they w^ent 
along, in the relation of a thousand entertaining anec- 
dotes, which he introduced in the general conversation. 
Her Royal Highness* heard them with pleasure, and 
the solitary Senantes likewise attended to them. He 
perceived this, and quitted his mistress to inquire what 
she had done with Matta. 

"I!" said she, "I have done nothing with him; but 
I don't know what he would have done with me if I 
had been obliging enough to listen to his most humble 
solicitations." 

(1700). But now nothing of these remains, being gone to ruin, 
partly by the ravages of the French, and partly by the king's 
order that they should be demolished, to make room for some- 
thing else; but those vacuities have not yet, and probably will 
not very soon be filled up." [La Vigne ("the Vineyard") 
mentioned in footnote, p. 35, is evidently the same place.] 
*The Duchess of Savoy. 



40 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

She then told him in what manner his friend had 
treated her the very second day of their acquaintance. 

The Chevalier could not forbear laughing at it; he 
told her that Matta was rather too unceremonious, but 
yet she would like him better as their intimacy more 
improved, and for her consolation he assured her that 
he would have spoken in the same manner to her Royal 
Highness herself; however, he would not fail to give 
him a severe reprimand. He went the next morning 
into his room for that purpose; but Matta had gone 
out early in the morning on a shooting party, to which 
he had been invited by his supper companions on the 
preceding evening. At his return he took a brace of 
partridges and went to his mistress. Being asked 
whether he wished to see the Marquis, he said no ; and 
the Swiss porter telling him his lady was not at home, 
he left his partridges, and desired him to present them 
to his mistress from him. 

The Marchioness was at her toilet, and was decorat- 
ing her head with all the grace she could devise to 
captivate Matta, at the moment he was denied admit- 
tance; she knew nothing of the matter; but her hus- 
band knew every particular. He had taken it in 
dudgeon that the first visit was not paid to him, and, 
as he was resolved that it should not be paid to his wife, 
the Swiss had received his orders, and had almost been 
beaten for receiving the present which had been left. 
The partridges, however, were immediately sent back, 
and Matta, without examining into the cause, was 
glad to have them again. He went to Court without 
ever changing his clothes, or in the least considering he 
ought not to appear there without his lady's colours. 
He found her becomingly dressed; her eyes appeared 
to him' more than usually sparkling, and her whole 
person altogether divine. He began from that day to 
be much pleased with himself for his complaisance to 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 41 

the Chevalier de Gramont ; however, he could not help 
remarking that she looked but coldly upon him. This 
appeared to him a very extraordinary return for his 
services, and, imagining that she was unmindful of 
her weighty obligations to him, he entered into con- 
versation with her, and severely reprimanded her 
for having sent back his partridges with so much in- 
difference. 

She did not understand what he meant; and highly 
offended that he did not apologise, after the reprimand 
which she concluded him to have received, told him 
that he certainly had met with ladies of very com- 
plying dispositions in his travels, as he seemed to give 
to himself airs that she was by no means accustomed 
to endure. 

Matta desired to know wherein he could be said 
to have given himself any. "Wherein?" said she: 
'*the second day that you honoured me with your 
attentions, you treated me as if I had been your humble 
servant for a thousand years ; the first time that I gave 
you my hand you squeezed it as violently as you were 
able. After this commencement of your courtship, 
I got into my coach, and you mounted your horse ; but 
instead of riding by the side of the coach, as any 
reasonable gallant would have done, no sooner did a 
hare start from her form, than you immediately gal- 
loped full speed after her; having regaled yourself, 
during the promenade, by taking snuff, without 
ever deigning to bestow a thought on me. The 
only proof you gave me, on your return, that you 
recollected me, was by soliciting me to surrender my 
reputation in terms polite enough, but very explicit. 
And now you talk to me of having been shooting 
partridges, and of some visit or other, which, I sup- 
pose, you have been dreaming of, as well as of all 
the rest." 



42 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

The Chevalier de Gramont now advanced, to the 
interruption of this whimsical dialogue.' Matta was re- 
buked for his forwardness, and his friend took abun- 
dant pains to convince him that his conduct bordered 
more upon insolence than familiarity. Matta endeav- 
oured to exculpate himself, but succeeded ill. His mis- 
tress took compassion upon him, and consented to admit 
his excuses for the manner, rather than his repentance 
for the fact, and declared that it was the intention alone 
which could either justify or condemn in such cases; 
that it was very easy to pardon those transgressions 
which arise from excess of tenderness, but not such 
as proceeded from too great a presumption of success. 
Matta swore that he only squeezed her hand from the 
violence of his passion, and that he had been driven, 
by necessity, to ask her to relieve it; that he was 
yet a novice in the arts of solicitation; that he could 
not possibly think her more worthy of his affection, 
after a month's service, than at the present moment; 
and that he entreated her to cast away an occasional 
thought upon him when her leisure admitted. The 
Marchioness was not offended ; she saw very well that 
she must require an implicit conformity to the estab- 
lished rule of decorum, when she had to deal with such 
a character; and the Chevalier de Gramont, after this 
sort of reconciliation, went to look after his own affair 
with Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain. 

His concern was not the offspring of mere good 
nature, nay, it was the reverse; for no sooner did he 
perceive that the Marchioness looked with an eye of 
favour upon him, than this conquest, appearing to him 
to be more easy than the other, he thought it was 
prudent to take advantage of it, for fear of losing the 
opportunity, and that he might not have spent all his 

^Arrived at this point of the conversation (Vizetelly's trans- 
lation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 43 

time to no purpose, in case he should prove unsuccess- 
ful with the little Saint-Germain. 

In the meantime, in order to maintain that authority 
which he had usurped over the conduct of his friend, 
he, that very evening, notwithstanding what had been 
already said, reprimanded him for presuming to appear 
at Court in his morning suit, and without his mistress's 
badge; for not having had the wit or prudence to pay 
his first visit to the Marquis de Senantes, instead of 
consuming his time, to no purpose, in inquiries for the 
lady ; and, to conclude, he asked him what the devil he 
meant by presenting her with a brace of miserable red 
partridges. 

''And why not?" said Matta: "ought they to have 
been blue, too, to match the cockade and sword- 
knots you made me wear the other day? Plague not 
me with your nonsensical whimsies : my life on it, in 
one fortnight your equal in foppery and folly will not 
be found throughout the confines of Turin ; but to reply 
to your questions, I did not call upon Monsieur de 
Senantes, because I had nothing to do with him, and 
because he is of a species of animals which I dislike, 
and always shall dislike. As for you, you appear quite 
charmed with being decked out in green ribands, with 
writing letters to your mistress, and filling your pockets 
with citrons, pistachios, and such sort of stuff, with 
which you are always cramming the poor girl's mouth, 
against her will. You hope to succeed by chanting 
ditties composed in the days of Corisande and of Henry 
IV., which you will swear yourself have made upon 
her. Happy in practising the ceremonials of gallantry, 
you have no ambition for the essentials. Very well : 
every one has a particular way of acting, as well as a 
particular taste : yours is to trifle in love ; and, provided 
you can make Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain laugh, 
you are satisfied. As for my part, I am persuaded, 



44 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

that women here are made of the same materials as in 
other places ; and I do not think that they can be might- 
ily offended, if one sometimes leaves off trifling, to 
come to the point. However, if the Marchioness is not 
of this way of thinking, she may e'en provide for her- 
self elsewhere, for I can assure her, that I shall not long 
act the part of her squire." 

This was an unnecessary menace; for the Mar- 
chioness in reality liked him very well, was nearly of the 
same way of thinking herself, and wished for nothing 
more than to put his gallantry to the test. But Matta 
proceeded upon a wrong plan; he had conceived such 
an aversion for her husband^ that he could not prevail 
upon himself to make the smallest advance towards his 
good graces. He was given to understand that he ought 
to begin by endeavouring to lull the dragon to sleep, 
before he could gain possession of the treasure; but 
this was all to no purpose, though, at the same time, 
he could never see his mistress but in public. This 
made him impatient, and as he was lamenting his ill- 
fortune to her one day : "Have the goodness, madame," 
said he, "to let me know where you live : there is never 
a day that I do not call upon you, at least, three or four 
times, without ever being blessed with a sight of you." 
"I generally sleep at home," replied she, laughing, "but 
I must tell you, that you will never find me there, if 
you do not first pay a visit to the Marquis : I am not 
mistress of the house. I do not tell you," continued 
she, "that he is a man whose acquaintance any one 
would very impatiently covet for his conversation : on 
the contrary, I agree that his humour is fantastical, and 
his manners not of the pleasing cast ; but there is noth- 
ing so savage and inhuman which a little care, atten- 
tion, and complaisance may not tame into docility. I 
must repeat to you some verses upon the subject : I 
have got them by heart, because they contain a little 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 45 

advice, which you may accommodate, if you please, 
to your own case. 

RONDEAU 

"Keep in mind these maxims rare, 
You who hope to win the fair ; 
Who are, or would esteemed be, 
The quintessence of gallantry. 
That fopp'ry, grinning, and grimace, 
And fertile store of common-place; 
That oaths as false as dicers swear, 
And iv'ry teeth, and scented hair; 
That trinkets, and the pride of dress, 
Can only give your scheme success. 

Keep in mind. 

"Hast thy charmer e'er an aunt? 
Then learn the rules of woman's cant, 
And forge a tale, and swear you read it. 
Such as, save woman, none would credit: 
Win o'er her confidante and pages 
By gold, for this a golden age is ; 
And should it be her wayward fate. 
To be encumbered with a mate, 
A dull, old dotard should he be. 
That dulness claims thy courtesy. 

Keep in mind.** 

"Truly," said Matta, "the song may say what it 
pleases, but I cannot put it in practice : your husband 
is far too exquisite a monster for me. Why, what a 
plaguy odd ceremony do you require of us in this 
country, if we cannot pay our compliments to the wife 
without being in love with the husband !'* 

The Marchioness was nmch offended at this answer ; 
and as she thought she had done enough in pointing 
out to him the path which would conduct him to suc- 
cess, if he had deserved it, she did not think it worth 
while to enter into any further explanation; since he 
refused to cede, for her sake, so trifling an objection : 
from this instant she resolved to have done with him. 

The Chevalier de Gramont had taken leave of his 



46 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

mistress nearly at the same time : the ardour of his pur- 
suit was extinguished. It was not that Mademoiselle 
de Saint-Germain was less worthy than hitherto of his 
attentions: on the contrary her attractions visibly in- 
creased. She retired to her pillow with a thousand 
charms, and ever rose from it with additional beauty : 
the phrase of increasing in beauty as she increased in 
years seemed to have been purposely made for her. 
The Chevalier could not deny these truths, but yet he 
could not find his account in them: a little less merit, 
with a little less discretion, would have been more 
agreeable. He perceived that she attended to him with 
pleasure, that she was diverted with his stories as much 
as he could wish, and that she received his billets and 
presents without scruple; but then he also discovered 
that she did not wish to proceed any further. He had 
exhausted every species of address upon her, and all to 
no purpose: her attendant was gained: her family, 
charmed with the music of his conversation and his 
great attention, were never happy without him. In 
short, he had reduced to practice the advice contained 
in the Marchioness's song, and everything conspired to 
deliver the little Saint-Germain into his hands, if the 
little Saint-Germain had herself been willing : but, alas ! 
she was not inclined. It was in vain he told her the 
favour he desired would cost her nothing; and that 
since these treasures were rarely comprised in the for- 
tune a lady brings with her in marriage, she would 
never find any person, who, by unremitting tenderness, 
unwearied attachment, and inviolable secrecy, would 
prove more worthy of them than himself. He then told 
her no husband was ever able to convey a proper idea 
of the sweets of love, and that nothing could be more 
different than the passionate fondness of a lover, always 
tender, always affectionate, yet always respectful, and 
the careless indifference of a husband. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 47 

Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain, not wishing to take 
the matter in a serious light, that she might not be 
forced to resent it, answered, that since it was gen- 
erally the custom in her country to marry, she thought 
it was right to conform to it, without entering into the 
knowledge of those distinctions, and those marvellous 
particulars, which she did not very well understand, 
and of which she did not wish to have any further 
explanation ; that she had submitted to listen to him this 
one time, but desired he would never speak to her again 
in the same strain, since such sort of conversation was 
neither entertaining to her, nor could be serviceable to 
him. Though no one was ever more facetious than 
Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain, she yet knew how to 
assume a very serious air, whenever occasion required 
it. The Chevalier de Gramont soon saw that she was 
in earnest ; and finding it would cost him a great deal of 
time to effect a change in her sentiments, he was so 
far cooled in this pursuit, that he only made use of 
it to hide the designs he had upon the Marchioness 
de Senantes. 

He found this lady much disgusted at Matta's want 
of complaisance; and his seeming contempt for her 
erased every favourable impression which she had once 
entertained for him. While she was in this humour, 
the Chevalier told her that her resentment was just; he 
exaggerated the loss which his friend had sustained ; he 
told her that her charms were a thousand times superior 
to those of the little Saint-Germain, and requested that 
favour for himself which his friend did not deserve. 
He was soon favourably heard upon this topic ; and as 
soon as they were agreed, they consulted upon two 
measures necessary to be taken, the one to deceive her 
husband, the other his friend, which was not very diffi- 
cult: Matta was not at all suspicious: and the stupid 
Senantes, towards whom the Chevalier had already be- 



48 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

haved as Matta had refused to do, could not be easy 
without him. This was much more than was wanted ; 
for as soon as ever the Chevalier was with the Mar- 
chioness, her husband immediately joined them out of 
politeness; and on no account would have left them 
alone together, for fear they should grow weary of each 
other without him. 

Matta, who all this time was entirely ignorant that 
he was disgraced, continued to serve his mistress in his 
own way. She had agreed with the Chevalier de 
Gramont, that to all appearance everything should be 
carried on as before ; so that the Court always believed 
that the Marchioness only thought of Matta, and that 
the Chevalier was entirely devoted to Mademoiselle de 
Saint-Germain. 

There were very frequentl}'- little lotteries for trin- 
kets; and the Chevalier de Gramont always tried his 
fortune, and was sometimes fortunate ; and under pre- 
tence of the prizes he had won, he bought a thousand 
things which he indiscreetly gave to the Marchioness, 
and which she still more indiscreetly accepted : the little 
Saint-Germain very seldom received anything. There 
are meddling whisperers everywhere: remarks were 
made upon these proceedings ; and the same person that 
made them communicated them likewise to Madem- 
oiselle de Saint-Germain. She pretended to laugh, 
but in reality was piqued. It is a maxim religiously 
observed by the fair sex, to envy each other those in- 
dulgences which themselves refuse. She took this very 
ill of the Marchioness. On the other hand, Matta was 
asked if he was not old enough to make his own pres- 
ents himself to the Marchioness de Senantes, without 
sending them by the Chevalier de Gramont. This 
roused him; for of himself, he would never have per- 
ceived it : his suspicions, however, were but slight, and 
he was willing to have them removed. "I must con- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 49 

fess," said he to the ChevaHer de Gramont, "that they 
make love here quite in a new style ; a man serves here 
without reward: he addresses himself to the husband 
when he is in love with the wife, and makes presents 
to another man's mistress, to get into the good graces 
of his own. The Marchioness is much obliged to you 

for " *Tt is you who are obliged,'' replied the 

Chevalier, "since this was done on your account: I 
was ashamed to find you had never yet thought of pre- 
senting her with any trifling token of your attention: 
do you know that the people of this Court have such 
extraordinary notions, as to think that it is rather 
owing to inadvertency that you never yet have had the 
spirit to make your mistress the smallest present ? For 
shame! how ridiculous it is, that you can never think 
for yourself !" 

Matta took this rebuke, without making any answer, 
being persuaded that he had in some measure deserved 
it : besides, he was neither sufficiently jealous, nor suffi- 
ciently amorous, to think any more of it ; however, as 
it was necessary for the Chevalier's affairs that Matta 
should be acquainted with the Marquis de Senantes, he 
plagued him so much about it, that at last he complied. 
His friend introduced him, and his mistress seemed 
pleased with this proof of complaisance, though she 
was resolved that he should gain nothing by it ; and the 
husband, being gratified with a piece of civility which 
he had long expected, determined, that very evening, 
to give them a supper at a little country seat of his, 
on the banks of the river, very near the city. 

The Chevalier de Gramont answering for them both, 
accepted the offer ; and as this was the only one Matta 
would not have refused from the Marquis, he likewise 
consented. The Marquis came to convey them in his 
carriage at the hour appointed; but he found only 
Matta. The Chevalier had engaged himself to play, on 



50 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

purpose that they might go without him: Matta was 
for waiting for him, so great was his fear of being left 
alone with the Marquis ; but the Chevalier having sent 
to desire them to go on before, and that he would 
be with them as soon as he had finished his game, poor 
Matta was obliged to set out with the man who, of all 
the world, was most offensive to him. It was not the 
Chevalier's intention quickly to extricate Matta out of 
this embarrassment : he no sooner knew that they were 
gone, than he waited on the Marchioness, under pre- 
tence of still finding her husband, that they might all 
go together to supper. 

The plot was in a fair way; and as the Marchioness 
was of opinion that Matta's indifference merited no bet- 
ter treatment' from her, she made no scruple of acting 
her part in it : she therefore waited for the Chevalier de 
Gramont with intentions so much the more favourable, 
as she had for a long time expected him, and had some 
curiosity to receive a visit from him in the absence of 
her husband. We may therefore suppose that this first 
opportunity would not have been lost if Mademoiselle 
de Saint-Germain had not unexpectedly come in, almost 
at the same time with the Chevalier. 

She was more handsome and more entertaining that 
day than she had ever been before; however, she ap- 
peared to them very ugly and very tiresome. She soon 
perceived that her company was disagreeable, and being 
determined that they should not be out of humour with 
her for nothing, after having passed above a long half 
hour in diverting herself with their uneasiness, and 
in playing a thousand monkey tricks, which she plainly 
saw could never be more unseasonable, she pulled off 
her hood, scarf, and all that part of her dress which 
ladies lay aside, when in a familiar manner they intend 
to pass the day anywhere. The Chevalier de Gramont 
cursed her in his heart, while she continued to torment 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 51 

him for being in such ill-humour in such good company. 
At last the Marchioness, who was as much vexed as he 
was, said rather drily that she was obliged to wait on 
her Royal Highness. Mademoiselle de Saint-Germain 
told her that she would have the honour to accompany 
her, if it would not be disagreeable: she took not the 
smallest notice of her offer, and the Chevalier, finding 
that it would be entirely useless to prolong his visit at 
that time, retired with a good grace. 

As soon as he had left the house, he sent one of his 
scouts to desire the Marquis to sit down to table with 
his company without waiting for him, because the game 
might not perhaps be finished as soon as he expected, 
but that he would be with him before supper was over. 
Having despatched this messenger, he placed a sentinel 
at the Marchioness's door, in hopes that the tedious 
Saint-Germain might go out before her; but this was 
in vain, for his spy came and told him, after an hour's 
impatience and suspense, that they were gone out to- 
gether. He found there was no chance of seeing her 
again that day, everything falling out contrary to his 
wishes; he was forced, therefore, to leave the Mar- 
chioness, and go in quest of the Marquis. 

While these things were going on in the city, Matta 
was not much diverted in the country : as he was 
prejudiced against the Marquis, all that he said dis- 
pleased him. He cursed the Chevalier heartily for the 
tete-a-tete which he had procured him ; and he was upon 
the point of going away, when he found that he was 
to sit down to supper without any other company. 

However, as his host was very choice in his enter- 
tainments, and had the best wine and the best cook in 
all Piedmont, the sight of the first course appeased him ; 
and eating most voraciously, without paying any atten- 
tion to the Marquis, he fiattered himself that the supper 
would end without any dispute; but he was mistaken. 



52 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

When the Chevalier de Gramont was at first en- 
deavouring to bring about an intercourse between the 
Marquis and Matta, he had given a very advantageous 
character of the latter, to make the former more desir- 
ous of his acquaintance ; and in the display of a thou- 
sand other accomplishments, knowing what an infatu- 
ation the Marquis had for the very name of erudition, 
he assured him that Matta was one of the most learned 
men in Europe. 

The Marquis, therefore, from the moment they sat 
down to supper, had expected some stroke of learning 
from Matta, to bring his own into play; but he was 
much out in his reckoning. No one had read less, no 
one thought less, and no one had ever spoken so little 
at an entertainment as he had done. As he did not 
wish to enter into conversation, he opened his mouth 
only to eat, or ask for wine. 

The other, being offended at a silence which ap- 
peared to him affected, and wearied with having 
uselessly attacked him upon other subjects, thought he 
might get something out of him by changing the dis- 
course to love and gallantry; and therefore, to begin 
the subject, he accosted him in this manner : 

"Since you are my wife's gallant " "I!" said 

Matta, who wished to carry it discreetly : "those whO' 
told you so, told a damned He." "Zounds, sir," said 
the Marquis, "you speak in a tone which does not at 
all become you, for I would have you to know, 
notwithstanding your contemptuous airs, that the 
Marchioness de Senantes is perhaps as worthy of your 
attentions as any of your French ladies, and that I 
have known some greatly your superiors, who have 
thought it an honour to serve her." "Very well," 
said Matta, "I think she is very deserving, and since 
you insist upon it, I am her servant and gallant, to 
oblige you." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 53 

"You think, perhaps," continued the other, "that 
the same custom prevails in this country as in your 
own, and that the ladies have lovers, with no other 
intentions than to grant them favours: undeceive 
yourself, if you please, and know, likewise, that even 
if such events were frequent in this Court, I should 
not be at all uneasy," "Nothing can be more civil," 
said Matta; "but wherefore would you not?" "I will 
tell you why," replied he.'' "I am well acquainted 
with the affection my wife entertains for me: I am 
acquainted with her discretion towards all the world; 
and, what is more, I am acquainted with my own 
merit." 

"You have a most uncommon acquaintance, then," 
replied Matta; "I congratulate you upon it; I have 
the honour to drink it in a bumper." The Marquis 
pledged him ; but seeing that the conversation dropped 
on their ceasing to drink, after two or three healths, 
he wished to make a second attempt, and attack Matta 
on his strong side, that is to say, on his learning. 

He desired him, therefore, to tell him, at what time 
he thought the Allobroges came to settle in Piedmont. 
Matta, who wished him and his Allobroges at the devil, 
said, that it must be in the time of the civil wars. 
"I doubt that," said the other. "Just as you like," 
said Matta. "Under what consulate?" replied the 
Marquis. "Under that of the League," said Matta, 
"when the Guises brought the Lansquenets into 
France; but what the devil does that signify?" 

The Marquis was tolerably warm, and naturally 
savage, so that God knows how the conversation 
would have ended, if the Chevalier de Gramont had 
not unexpectedly come in to appease them. It was 
some time before he could find out what their debate 
was; for the one had forgotten the questions, and 

•The Marquis. 



54 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

the other the answers, which had disobliged him, 
in order to reproach the ChevaHer with his eternal 
passion for play, which made him always uncertain. 
The Chevalier, who knew that he was still more 
culpable than they thought, bore it all with patience, 
and condemned himself more than they desired. This 
appeased them; and the entertainment ended with 
greater tranquillity than it had begun. The conversa- 
tion was again reduced to order; but he could not 
enliven it as he usually did. He was in very ill 
humor, and as he pressed them every minute to rise 
from table, the Marquis was of opinion that he had 
lost a great deal. Matta said, on the contrary, that he 
had won; but for want of precautions had made per- 
haps an unfortunate retreat; and asked him if he had 
not stood in need of Sergeant La Place, with his am- 
buscade. 

This piece of history was beyond the comprehen- 
sion of the Marquis, and being afraid that Matta 
might explain it, the Chevalier changed the discourse, 
and was for rising from table; but Matta would not 
consent to it. This effected a reconciliation between 
him and the Marquis, who thought this was a piece of 
civility intended for him; however, it was not for 
him, but for his wine, to which Matta had taken a 
prodigious liking. 

The Duchess,' who knew the character of the 
Marquis, was charmed with the account which the 
Chevalier de Gramont gave her of the entertainment 
and conversation. She sent for Matta to know the 
truth of it from himself. He confessed, that before 
the Allobroges were mentioned the Marquis was for 
quarrelling with him, because he was not in love with 
his wife. 

Their acquaintance having begun in this manner, 
^Madame Royale. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 55 

all the esteem which the Marquis had formerly ex- 
pressed for the Chevalier seemed now directed 
towards Matta. He went every day to pay Matta a 
visit, and Matta was every day with his wife. This 
did not at all suit the Chevalier : he repented of his 
having chid Matta, whose assiduity now interrupted 
all his schemes ; and the Marchioness was still more 
embarrassed. Whatever wit a man may have, it will 
never please where his company is disliked; and she 
repented that she had been formerly guilty of some 
trifling advances towards him. 

Matta began to find charms in her person, and 
might have found the same in her conversation, if she 
had been inclined 'to display them ; but it is impossible 
to be in good humour with persons who thwart our 
designs. While his passion increased, the Chevalier 
de Gramont was solely occupied in endeavouring to 
find out some method, by which he might accomplish 
his own intrigue; and this was the stratagem w4iich 
he put in execution to clear the coast, by removing, 
at one and the same time, both the lover and the 
husband. 

He told Matta that they ought to invite the 
Marquis to supper at their lodgings, and he would 
take upon himself to provide everything proper for 
the occasion. Matta desired to know if it was to 
play at quinze, and assured him that he should take 
care to render abortive any intention he might have to 
engage in play, and leave him alone with the greatest 
blockhead in all Europe. The Chevalier de Gramont 
did not entertain any such thought, being persuaded 
that it would be impossible to take advantage of any 
such opportunity, in whatever manner he might take 
his measures; and that they would seek for him in 
every corner of the city rather than allow him the least 
repose. His whole attention was therefore employed 



56 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

in rendering the entertainment agreeable, in finding 
out means of prolonging it, in order ultimately to 
kindle some dispute between the Marquis and Matta. 
For this purpose he put himself in the best humour 
in the world, and the wine produced the same effect 
on the rest of the company. 

The Chevalier de Gramont expressed his concern 
that he had not been able to give the Marquis a 
little concert, as he had intended in the morning; for 
the musicians had been all pre-engaged. Upon this 
the Marquis undertook to have them at his country- 
house the following evening, and invited the same 
company to sup with him there. Matta asked what 
the devil they wanted with music, and maintained that 
it was of no use on such occasions but for women who 
had something to say to their lovers, while the fiddles 
prevented them from being overheard, or for fools 
who had nothing to say when the music ended. They 
ridiculed all his arguments: the party was fixed for 
the next day, and the music was voted by the majority 
of voices. The Marquis, to console Matta, as well as 
to do honour to the entertainment, toasted a great 
many healths. Matta was more ready to listen to his 
arguments on this topic than in a dispute; but the 
Chevalier, perceiving that a little would irritate them, 
desired nothing more earnestly than to see them 
engaged in some new controversy. It was in vain 
that he had from time to time started some subject 
of discourse with this intention; but having luckily 
thought of asking what was his lady's maiden name, 
Senantes, who was a great genealogist, as all fools are 
who have good memories, immediately began tracing 
out her family, by an endless, confused string of 
lineage. The Chevalier seemed to listen to him with 
great attention ; and perceiving that Matta was almost 
out of patience, he desired him to attend to what the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 57 

Marquis was saying, for that nothing could be more 
entertaining. "All this may be very true," said Matta; 
''but for my part, I must confess, if I were married, 
I should rather choose to inform myself who was the 
real father of my children, than who were my wife's 
grandfathers." The Marquis, smiling at this rude- 
ness, did not leave off until he had traced back the 
ancestors of his spouse, from line to line, as far as 
Yolande de Senantes : after this he offered to prove, in 
less than half an hour, that the Gramonts came origi- 
nally from Spain. **Very well," said Matta, "and 
pray what does it signify to us from whence the 
Gramonts are descended ? Do not you know, sir, that 
it is better to know nothing at all, than to know too 
much ?" 

The Marquis maintained the contrary with great 
warmth, and was preparing a formal argument to 
prove that an ignorant man is a fool ; but the Chevalier 
de Gramont, who was thoroughly acquainted with 
Matta, saw very clearly that he would send the logician 
to the devil before he should arrive at the conclusion 
of his syllogism: for which reason, interposing as 
soon as they began to raise their voices, he told them 
it was ridiculous to quarrel about an affair in itself so 
trivial, and treated the matter in a serious light, that 
it might make the greater impression. Thus supper 
terminated peaceably, owing to the .care he took to 
suppress all disputes, and to substitute plenty of wine 
in their stead. 

The next day Matta went to the chase, the Chevalier 
de Gramont to- the bagnio, and the Marquis to his 
country-house. While the latter was making the 
necessary preparations for his guests, not forgetting 
the music, and Matta pursuing his game to get an 
appetite, the Chevalier was meditating on the execu- 
tion of his project. 



58 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

As soon as he had regulated his plan of operations 
in his own mind, he privately sent anonymous intelli- 
gence to the officer of the guard at the palace that the 
Marquis de Senantes had had some words with Mon- 
sieur de Matta the preceding night at supper ; that the 
one had gone out in the morning, and the other could 
not be found in the city. 

Madame Royale, alarmed at this advice, immedi- 
ately sent for the Chevalier de Gramont. He appeared 
surprised when her Highness mentioned the affair : he 
confessed, indeed, that some high words had passed 
between them, but that he did not believe either of 
them would have remembered them the next day. 
He said that if no mischief had yet taken place, the 
best way would be to secure them both until the 
morning, and that if they could be found, he would 
undertake to reconcile them, and to obliterate all 
grievances. In this there was no great difficulty. On 
inquiry at the Marquis's they were informed that he 
was gone to his country-house : there certainly he was, 
and there they found him; the officer put him under 
an arrest, without assigning any reason for so doing, 
and left him in very great surprise. 

Immediately upon Matta's return from hunting, her 
Royal Highness sent the same officer to desire him to 
give her his word that he would not stir out that 
evening. This compliment very much surprised him, 
more particularly as no reason was assigned for it. He 
was expected at a good entertainment; he was dying 
with hunger, and nothing appeared to him more un- 
reasonable than to oblige him to stay at home in a 
situation like the present; but he had given his word, 
and not knowing to what this might tend, his only 
resource was to send for his friend. But his friend 
did not come to him until his return from the country. 
He had there found the Marquis in the midst of his 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 59 

fiddlers, and very much vexed to find himself a pris- 
oner in his own house on account of Matta, whom he 
was waiting for in order to feast him. He complained 
of him bitterly to the Chevalier de Gramont. He said 
that he did not believe that he had offended him; but 
that, since he was very desirous ol a quarrel, he desired 
the Chevalier to acquaint him, if he felt the least 
displeasure on the present occasion, he should, on the 
very first opportunity, receive what is called satisfac- 
tion. The Chevalier de Gramont assured him that 
no such thought had ever entered the mind of Matta ; 
that, on the contrary, he knew that he very greatly 
esteemed him ; that all this could alone arise from the 
extreme tenderness of his lady, who, being alarmed 
upon the report of the servants w^ho waited at table, 
must have gone to her Royal Highness, in order to 
prevent any unpleasant consequences; that he thought 
this the more probable, as he had often told the 
Marchioness, when speaking of Matta, that he was 
the best swordsman in France ; for in truth the poor 
gentleman had never fought without having the mis- 
fortune of killing his man. 

The Marquis, being a little pacified, said he was 
very much obliged to him, that he would severely chide 
his wife for her unseasonable tenderness, and that he 
was extremely desirous of again enjoying the pleasure 
of his dear friend Matta's company. 

The Chevalier de Gramont assured him that he 
would use all his endeavours for that purpose, and at 
the same time gave strict charge to the guards not 
to let him escape without orders from the Court, as 
he seemed fully bent upon fighting, and they would 
be responsible for him. There was no occasion to say 
more to have him strictly watched, though there was 
no necessity for it. 

One being thus safely lodged, his next step was 



6o THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

to secure the other. He returned immediately to 
town: and as soon as Matta saw him, "What the 
devil/' said he, "is the meaning of this farce which I 
am obliged to act ? For my part, I cannot understand 
the foolish customs of this country ; how comes it that 
they make me a prisoner upon my parole?" "How 
comes it?" said the Chevalier de Gramont; "it is 
because you yourself are far more unaccountable than 
all their customs; you cannot help disputing with a 
peevish fellow, whom you ought only to laugh at; 
some officious footman has no doubt been talking of 
your last night's dispute ; you were seen to go out of 
town in the morning, and the Marquis soon after; 
was not this sufficient to make her Royal Highness 
think herself obliged to take these precautions? The 
Marquis is in custody; they have only required your 
parole ; so far, therefore, from taking the affair in the 
sense you do, I should send very humbly to thank 
her Highness for the kindness she has manifested 
towards you in putting you under arrest, since it is 
only on your account that she interests herself in the 
affair. I shall take a walk to the palace, where I will 
endeavour to unravel this mystery; in the meantime, 
as there is but little probability that the matter should 
be settled this evening, you would do well to order 
supper, for I shall come back to you immediately." 

Matta charged him not to fail to express to her 
Royal Highness the grateful sense he had of her 
favour, though in truth he as little feared the Marquis 
as he loved him; and it is impossible to express the 
degree of his fortitude in stronger terms. 

The Chevalier de Gramont returned in about half 
an hour with two or three gentlemen whom Matta had 
got acquainted with at the chase, and who, upon the 
report of the quarrel, waited upon him and each 
offered him separately his services against the unas- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 6i 

sisted and pacific Marquis. Matta, having returned 
them his thanks, insisted upon their staying supper, 
and put on his robe de chambre. 

As soon as the ChevaHer de Gramont perceived that 
everything coincided with his wishes, and that towards 
the end of the entertainment the toasts went merrily 
round, he knew he was sure of his man till next day : 
then taking him aside with the permission of the com- 
pany, and making use of a false confidence in order to 
disguise a real treachery, he acquainted him, after 
having sworn him several times to secrecy, that he 
had at last prevailed upon the little Saint-Germain to 
grant him an interview that night; for which reason 
he would take his leave, under pretence of going to 
play at Court. He therefore desired him fully to sat- 
isfy the company that he would not have left them on 
any other account, as the Piedmontese are naturally 
mistrustful. Matta promised he would manage this 
point with discretion ; that he would make an apology 
for him, and that there was no occasion for his per- 
sonally taking leave. Then, after congratulating him 
upon the happy posture of his affairs, he sent him 
away with all the expedition and secrecy imaginable; 
so great was his fear lest his friend should lose the 
present opportunity. 

Matta then returned to the company, much pleased 
with the confidence which had been placed in him, and 
with the share he had in the success of this adventure. 
He put himself into the best humour imaginable in 
order to divert the attention of his guests ; he severely 
satirised those, whose rage for gaming induced them 
to sacrifice to it every other consideration; he loudly 
ridiculed the folly of the Chevalier upon this article, 
and secretly laughed at the credulity of the Pied- 
montese, whom he had deceived with so much inge- 
nuity. 



62 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

It was late at night before the company broke up, 
and Matta went to bed, very well satisfied with what 
he had done for his friend; and, if we may credit 
appearances, this friend enjoyed the fruit of his per- 
fidy. The amorous Marchioness received him* like 
one who wished to enhance the value of the favour she 
bestowed ; her charms were far from being neglected ; 
and if there are any circumstances in which we may 
detest the traitor while we profit by the treason, this 
was not one of them ; and however cautious the Chev- 
alier de Gramont was in his intrigues, it was not 
owing to him that the contrary was not believed; but 
be that as it may, being convinced that in love what- 
ever is gained by address is gained fairly, it does not 
appear that he ever showed the smallest degree of 
repentance for this trick. But it is now time for us 
to take him from the Court of Savoy, to see him shine 
in that of France. 

* Attired (VizetelVs translation). 



CHAPTER V 

THE Chevalier de Gramont, upon his return to 
France, sustained, with the greatest success, 
the reputation he had acquired abroad. Alert 
in play, active and vigilant in love; sometimes suc- 
cessful, and always feared, in his intrigues; in war 
alike prepared for the events of good or ill fortune; 
possessing an inexhaustible fund of pleasantry in the 
former, and full of expedients and dexterity in the 
latter. 

Zealously attached to the Prince de Conde^ from 
inclination, he was a witness, and, if we may be 

* Louis of Bourbon, Duke d'Enghien (born 1620). By the 
death of his father in 1646, Prince de Conde. Of this great man 
Cardinal de Retz says : " He was born a general, which never 
happened but to Caesar, to Spinola, and to himself. He has 
equalled the first : he has surpassed the second. Intrepidity is 
one of the least shining strokes in his character. Nature had 
formed him' with a mind as great as his courage. Fortune, in 
setting him out in a time of wars, has given this last a full 
extent to work in : his birth, or rather his education, in a family 
devoted and enslaved to the court, has kept the first within too 
straight bounds. He was not taught time enough the great and 
general maxims which alone are able to form men to think 
always consistently. He never had time to learn them of him- 
self, because he was prevented from his youth, by the great 
affairs that fell unexpectedly to his share, and by the continual 
success he met with. This defect in him was the cause, that 
with the soul in the world the least inclined to evil, he has com- 
mitted injuries; that with the heart of an Alexander, he has, 
like him, had his failings; that with a wonderful understanding, 
he has acted imprudently; that having all the qualities \vhich the 
Duke Francis of Guise had, he has not served the state in some 
occasions so well as he ought; and that having likewise all the 
qualities of the Duke Henry of Guise, he has not carried faction 
SO far as he might. He could not come up to the height of his 

63 



64 THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

allowed to say it, his companion, in the glory he had 
acquired at the celebrated battles of Lens, Nordling- 
uen, and Fribourg;* and the details he so frequently 
gave of them were far from diminishing their lustre. 

So long as he had only some scruples of conscience, 
and a thousand interests to sacrifice, he quitted all to 
follow a man, whom strong motives and resentments, 
which in some manner appeared excusable, had with- 
drawn from the paths of rectitude. He adhered to him 
in his first disgrace, with a constancy of which there 
are few examples; but he could not submit to the in- 
juries which he afterwards received, and which such 
an inviolable attachment so little merited. Therefore, 
without fearing any reproach for a conduct which 
sufficiently justified itself, as he had formerly deviated 
from his duty by entering into the service of the 
Prince de Conde, he thought he had a right to leave 
him to return again to his duty. 

His peace was soon made at Court, where many, far 
more culpable than himself, were immediately received 

merit ; which, though it be a defect, must yet be owned to be very 
uncommon, and only to be found in persons of the greatest abili- 
ties" (Memoirs, vol. i. p. 248, edit. 1723) . He retired from the army, 
soon after the death of Turenne, to Chantilly, " from whence," 
says Voltaire, " he very rarely came to Vjersailles, to behold his 
glory eclipsed in a place where the courtier never regards any- 
thing but favour. He passed the remainder of his days, 
torm'ented with the gout, relieving the severity of his pains, and 
employing the leisure of his retreat in the conversation of men 
of genius of all kinds, with which France then abounded.^ He 
was worthy of their conversation; as he was not unacquainted 
with any of those arts and sciences in which they shone. He 
continued to be admired even in his retreat; but at last that 
devouring fire, which, in his youth, had made him a hero, 
impetuous, and full of passions, having consumed the strength 
of his body, which was naturally rather fragile than robust, he 
declined before his time ; and the strength of his mind decaying 
with that of his body, there remained nothing of the great 
Conde during the last two years of his life. He died in 1686" 
(Age of Louis XIV, chap. xi.). 
* These were fought in the years 1648, 1645, and 1644, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 65 

into favour, when they desired it ; for the Queen,* still 
terrified at the dangers into which the civil wars had 
plunged the State at the commencement of her 
regency, endeavoured by lenient measures to conciliate 
the minds of the people. The policy of the minister* 
was neither sanguinary nor revengeful. His favourite 
maxim was rather to appease the minds of the dis- 
contented by lenity than to have recourse to violent 
measures; to be content with losing nothing by the 
war, without being at the expense of gaining any 
advantage from the enemy; to suffer his character to 
be very severely handled, provided he could amass 
much wealth, and to spin out the minority to the 
greatest possible extent. 

His avidity to heap up riches was not alone confined 
to the thousand different means, with which he was 

•Anne of Austria, daughter of Philip III. of Spain, widow of 
Louis XIII., to whom sh'e was married in 1615, and mother of 
Louis XIV. She died in 1666. Cardinal de Retz speaks of her 
in the following terms: "The Queen had more than anybody 
whom I ever knew, of that sort of wit which was necessary for 
her not to appear a fool to those that did not know her. She 
had in her more of harshness than haughtiness ; more of haughti- 
ness than of greatness; more of outward appearance than reality; 
more regard to money than liberality ; more of liberality than of 
self-interest; more of self-interest than disinterestedness: she 
was more tied to persons by habit than by affection; she had 
more of insensibility than of cruelty; she had a better memory 
for injuries than for benefits; her intention towards piety was 
greater than her piety ; she had in her more of obstinacy than of 
firmness ; and more incapacity than of all the rest which I men- 
tioned before" (Memoirs, vol. i. p. 247). 

* Cardinal Mazarin, who, during a few of the latter years of his 
life, governed France. He died at Vincennes the 9th of March 
1661, aged fifty-nine, leaving as heir to his name and property 
the Marquis de la Meill'eraye, who married his niece, and took 
the title of Duke of Mazarin. On his death, Louis XIV. and 
the court appeared in mourning, an honour not common, though 
Henry IV. had shown it to the memory of Gabrielle d'Estrees. 
Voltaire, who appears unwilling to ascribe much ability to the 
Cardinal, takes an opportunity, on occasion of his death, to make 
the following observation : "We cannot refrain from combating 
the opinion, which supposes prodigious abilities and a genius 



66 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

furnished by his authority, and the situation in which 
he was placed. His whole pursuit was gain. He was 
naturally fond of gaming ; but he only played to enrich 
himself, and therefore, whenever he found an oppor- 
tunity, he cheated. 

As he found the Chevalier de Gramont possessed a 
great deal of wit, and a great deal of money, he was 
a man according to his wishes, and soon became one 
of his set. The Chevalier soon perceived the artful- 
ness and dishonesty of the Cardinal, and thought it 
was allowable in him to put in practice those talents 
which he had received from nature, not only in his 
own defence, but even to attack him whenever an 
opportunity offered. This would certainly be the place 
to mention these particulars; but who can describe 
them with such ease and elegance as may be expected 
by those who have heard his own relation of them? 
Vain is the attempt to endeavour to transcribe these 
entertaining anecdotes : their spirit seems to evaporate 
upon paper; and in whatever light they are exposed 
the delicacy of their colouring and their beauty is lost. 

It is then enough to say, that upon all occasions 
where address was reciprocally employed, the Cheva- 
lier gained the advantage; and that if he paid his court 
badly to the minister, he had the consolation to find, 
that those who suffered themselves to be cheated, in 
the end gained no great advantage from their com- 
plaisance; for they always continued in an abject sub- 
mission, while the Chevalier de Gramont, on a thou- 

almost divine, in those who have governed empires with soma 
degree of success. It is not a superior penetration that makes 
statesman; it is their character. All men, how inconsiderable 
soever their share of sense may be, see their own interest nearly- 
alike. ^ A citizen of Bern or Amsterdam, in this respect, is equal 
to Sejanus, Ximenes, Buckingham, Richelieu, or Mazarin; but 
our conduct and our enterprises depend absolutely on our natural 
dispositions, and our success dep'ends upon fortune" {Age of 
l^ouis XIV. chap, v.). 




The Chevalier was so agreeable and diverting, that he made his 
mistress almost die with laughing. 

—p. 38 
From the painting by C. Delort, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT (>7 

sand different occasions, never put himself under the 
least restraint, of which the following is one instance : 

The Spanish army, commanded by the Prince de 
Conde and the Archduke," besieged Arras. The Court 
was advanced as far as Peronne." The enemy, by the 
capture of this place, would have procured a reputa- 
tion for their army of which they were in great need ; 
as the French, for a considerable time past, had evinced 
a superiority in every engagement. 

The Prince supported a tottering party, as far as 
their usual inactivity and irresolution permitted him; 
but as in the events of war it is necessary to act in- 
dependently on some occasions, which, if once suffered 
to escape, can never be retrieved, for want of this 
power it frequently happened that his great abilities 
were of no avail. The Spanish infantry had never 
recovered itself since the battle of Rocroi;' and he 
who had ruined them by that victory, by fighting 
against them, was the only man who now, by com- 
manding their army, was capable of repairing the 
mischief he had done them. But the jealousy of the 
generals, and the distrust attendant upon their coun- 
sels, tied up his hands. 

Nevertheless, the siege of Arras' was vigorously 
carried on. The Cardinal was very sensible how dis- 
honourable it would be to suffer this place to be taken 
under his nose, and almost in sight of the King. On 

^Leopold, brother of the Emperor Ferdinand III. 

' A small town, standing among marshes on the river Somme, 
in Picardy. 

'This famous battle was fought and won 19th May 1643, five 
days after the death of Louis XIII. 

^Voltaire observes, that it was the fortune of Turenne and 
Conde to be always victorious when they fought at the head of 
the French, and to be vanquished when they commanded the 
Spaniards. This was Conde's fate before Arras, 25th August 1654, 
when he and the Archduke besieged that city. Turenne attacked 
them in their camp, and forced their lines: the troops of the 
Archduke were cut to pieces; and Conde, with two regiments 

S — Memoirs Vol. 4 



68 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

the other hand, it was very hazardous to attempt its 
relief, the Prince de Conde being a man who never 
neglected the smallest precaution for the security of 
his lines; and if lines are attacked and not forced, the 
greatest danger threatens the assailants, for, the more 
furious the assault, the greater is the disorder in the 
retreat; and no man in the world knew so well as the 
Prince de Conde how to make the best use of an 
advantage. The army, commanded by Monsieur de 
Turenne, was considerably weaker than that of the 
enemy ; it was, likewise, the only resource they had to 
depend upon. If this army was defeated, the loss of 
Arras was not the only misfortune to be dreaded. 

The Cardinal, whose genius was happily adapted to 
such junctures, where deceitful negotiations could ex- 
tricate him out of difficulties, was filled with terror at 
the sight of imminent danger, or of a decisive event. 
He was of opinion to lay siege to some other place, the 
capture of which might prove an indemnification for 
the loss of Arras ; but Monsieur de Turenne, who was 
altogether of a different opinion from the Cardinal, 
resolved to march towards the enemy, and did not 
acquaint him with his intentions until he was upon his 
march. The courier arrived in the midst of his dis- 
tress, and redoubled his apprehensions and alarms; 
but there was then no remedy. 

The Marshal, whose great reputation had gained 
him the confidence of the troops, had determined upon 
his measures before an express order from the Court 
could prevent him. This was one of those occasions 

of French and Lorrainers, aTone sustained the efforts of 
Turenne's army ; and, while the Archduke was flying, he repulsed 
the Marshal de la Ferte, and retreated victoriously himself, by 
covering the retreat of the vanquished Spaniards. The King of 
Spain, in his letter to him after this engagement, had these 
words: "I have been informed that everything was lost, and 
that you have recovered everything." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 69 

in which the difficulties you encounter heighten the 
glory of success. Though the general's capacity, in 
some measure, afforded comfort to the Court, they 
nevertheless were upon the eve of an event, which in 
one way or other must terminate both their hopes and 
their fears. While the rest of the courtiers were giving 
various opinions concerning the issue, the Chevalier 
de Gramont determined to be an eye-witness of it; 
a resolution which greatly surprised the Court; for 
those who had seen as many actions as he had, seemed 
to be exempted from such eagerness; but it was in 
vain that his friends opposed his resolutions. 

The King was pleased with his intention; and the 
Queen appeared no less satisfied. He assured her that 
he would bring her good news; and she promised to 
embrace him, if he was as good as his word. The 
Cardinal made the same promise. To the latter, how- 
ever, he did not pay much attention ; yet he believed it 
sincere, because the keeping of it would cost him" 
nothing. 

He set out in the dusk of the evening with Caseau, 
whom Monsieur de Turenne" had sent express to their 
Majesties. The Duke of York,"^ and the Marquis 
d'Humieres,^ commanded under the Marshal. The 

^The Cardinal. 

"Vicomte de Turenne, the great French Commander, born in 
161 1, is perhaps most famous for his extraordinary campaign in 
Alsace in^ 1674-75. His defence of the frontiers of the Rhine 
showed his remarkable genius as a tactician. The spot where he 
was struck down by a spent cannon-ball at the battle of S^ssbach 
in the Grand-Duchy of Baden (on 27th July 1675) is marked by 
a monument. 

" Priorato, in his Memoirs of Cardinal Mazarin, mentions 
other Englishmen besides the Duke of York being present; as 
Lords Gerrard, Barclay, and Jermyn, with others {Memoirs, 
i2mo, 1673, vol. i. part iii. p. 365). 

" Marshal d'Humieres, h. 1628, oh. 1694. Voltaire says of him, 
that he was the first who, at the siege of Arras, in 1658, was 
served on silver in the trenches, and had ragovits and entremets 
served up to his table. 



70 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

latter was upon duty when the Chevalier arrived, it 
being scarce daylight. The Duke of York did not at 
first recollect him; but the Marquis d'Humieres, run- 
ning to him with opea arms, "I thought," said he, ''if 
any man came from Court to pay us a visit upon such 
an occasion as this, it would be the Chevalier de 
Gramont. Well," continued he, "what are they doing 
at Peronne?" "They are in great consternation/' 
replied the Chevalier. "And what do they think of 
us?" "They think," said he, "that if you beat the 
Prince, you will do no more than your duty; if you 
are beaten, they will think you fools and madmen, 
thus to have risked everything, without considering 
the consequences." "Truly," said the Marquis, "you 
bring us very comfortable news. Will you now go to 
Monsieur de Turenne's quarters, to acquaint him with 
it; or will you choose rather to repose yourself in 
mine, for you have been riding post all last night, 
and perhaps did not experience much rest in the pre- 
ceding?" "Where have you heard that the Chevalier 
de Gramont had ever any occasion for sleep?" replied 
he. "Only order me a horse, that I may have the 
honour to attend the Duke of York; for, most likely, 
he is not in the field so early, except to visit some 
posts." 

The advanced guard was only at cannon-shot from 
that of the enemy. As soon as they arrived there, 
"I should like," said the Chevalier de Gramont, "to 
advance as far as the sentry which is posted on that 
eminence. I have some friends and acquaintance in 
their army, whom I should wish to inquire after: I 
hope the Duke of York will give me permission." At 
these words he advanced. The sentry, seeing him come 
forward directly to his post, stood upon his guard. 
The Chevalier stopped as soon as he was within shot 
of him. The sentry answered the sign which was 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 71 

made to him, and made another to the officer, who had 
begun to advance as soon as he had seen the Chevalier 
come forward, and was soon up with him ; but seeing 
the Chevalier de Gramont alone, he made no difficulty 
to let him approach. He desired leave of this officer 
to inquire after some relations he had in their army, 
and at the same time asked if the Duke d'Arscot was at 
the siege. *'Sir," said he, *'there he is, just alighted 
under those trees, which you see on the left of our 
grand guard : it is hardly a minute since he was here 
with the Prince d'Aremberg, his brother, the Baron 
de Limbec, and Louvigny." "May I see them upon 
parole?" said the Chevalier. "Sir," said he, "if I were 
allowed to quit my post, I would do myself the honour 
of accompanying you thither; but I will send to 
acquaint them that the Chevalier de Gramont desires 
to speak to them." And, after having despatched one 
of his guard towards them, he returned. "Sir," said 
the Chevalier de Gramont, "may I take the liberty to 
inquire how I came to be known to you?" "Is it pos- 
sible," said the other, "that the Chevalier de Gramont 
should forget La Motte, who had the honour to serve 
so long in his regiment ?" "What ! is it you my good 
friend La Motte? Truly, I was to blame for not 
remembering you, though you are in a dress very dif- 
ferent from that which I first saw you in at Brussels, 
when you taught the Duchess of Guise to dance the 
'triolets'; and I am afraid your affairs are not in so 
flourishing a condition as they were the campaign after 
I had given you the company you mention." They 
were talking in this manner, when the Duke d'Arscot, 
followed by the gentlemen above mentioned, came up 
on full gallop. The Chevalier de Gramont was saluted 
by the whole company before he could say a word. 
Soon after arrived an immense number of others of 
his acquaintance, w^ith many people out of curiosity 



^2. THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

on both sides, who seeing him upon the eminence, 
assembled together with the greatest eagerness; so 
that the two armies, without design, without truce, 
and without fraud, were going to join in conversa- 
tion, if, by chance. Monsieur de Turenne had not per- 
ceived it at a distance. The sight surprised him. He 
hastened that way; and the Marquis d'Humieres 
acquainted him with the arrival of the Chevalier de 
Gramont, who wished to speak to the sentry before he 
went to the headquarters. He added, that he could not 
comprehend how the devil he had managed to assemble 
both armies around him, for it was hardly a minute 
since he had left him. ''Truly," said Monsieur de 
Turenne, ''he is a very extraordinary man; but it is 
only reasonable that he should let us now have a little 
of his company, since he has paid his first visit to the 
enemy." At these words he despatched an aide-de- 
camp, to recall the officers of his army, and to acquaint 
the Chevalier de Gramont with his impatience to see 
him. 

This order arrived at the same time, with one of the 
same nature, to the enemy's officers. The Prince de 
Conde being informed of this peaceable interview, was 
not the least surprised at it^ when he heard that it was 
occasioned by the arrival of the Chevalier de Gramont. 
He only gave Lussan orders to recall the officers, and 
to desire the Chevalier to meet him at the same place 
the next day; which the Chevalier promised to do, 
provided Monsieur de Turenne should approve of it, as 
he made no doubt he would. 

His reception in the King's army was equally agree- 
able as that which he had experienced from the enemy. 
Monsieur de Turenne esteemed him no less for his 
frankness than for the poignancy of his wit. He took 
it very kindly that he was the only courtier who came 
to see him in a time so critical as the present : the ques- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT ^z 

tions which he asked him about the Court were not so 
much for information, as to divert himself with his 
manner of relating their different apprehensions and 
alarms. The Chevalier de Gramont advised him to 
beat the enemy, if he did not choose to be answerable 
for an enterprise which he had undertaken without 
consulting" the Cardinal. Monsieur de Turenne prom- 
ised him he would exert himself to the utmost to fol- 
low his advice, and assured him, that if he succeeded, 
he would make the Queen keep her word with him; 
and concluded with saying, that he was not sorry the 
Prince de Conde had expressed a desire to see him. 
His measures were taken for an attack upon the lines : 
on this subject he discoursed in private with the Chev- 
alier de Gramont, and concealed nothing from him ex- 
cept the time of execution; but this was all to no 
purpose, for the Chevalier had seen too much, not to 
judge, from his own knowledge, and the observations 
he had made, that from the situation of the army, the 
attack could be no longer deferred. 

He set out the next day for his rendezvous, attended 
by a trumpet, and found the Prince at the place which 
Monsieur de Lussan had described to him the evening 
before. As soon as he alighted : "Is it possible," said 
the Prince, embracing him, "that this can be the Chev- 
alier de Gramont, and that I should see him in the 
contrary party?'* "It is you, my lord, whom I see 
there," replied the Chevalier, "and I refer it to your- 
self, whether it was the fault of the Chevalier de 
Gramont, or your own, that we now embrace different 
interests." "I must confess," said the Prince, "that if 
there are some who have abandoned me like base, un- 
grateful wretches, you have left me, as I left myself, 
like a man of honour, who thinks himself In the right. 
But let us forget all cause of resentment, and tell me 
what was your motive for coming here, you, whom I 



74 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

thought at Peronne with the Court?" "Must I tell 
you ?" said he :" "why, faith then, I came to save your 
life. I know that you cannot help being in the midst 
of the enemy in a day of battle; it is only necessary 
for your horse to be shot under you, and to be taken in 
arms, to meet with the same treatment from this Cardi- 
nal as your uncle Montmorency'* did from the other. 
I come, therefore, to hold a horse in readiness for you 
in case of a similar misfortune^ that you may not lose 
your head." "It is not the first time/' said the Prince, 
smiling, "that you have rendered me this service, 
though the being taken prisoner at that time could not 
have been so dangerous to me as now." 

From this conversation they passed to more enter- 
taining subjects. The Prince asked him many ques- 
tions concerning the Court, the ladies, play, and about 
his amours; and returning insensibly to the present 
situation of affairs, the Chevalier having inquired after 
some officers of his acquaintance, who had remained 
with him, the Prince told him that if he chose he might 
go to the lines, where he would have an opportunity 
not only of seeing those whom he inquired after, but 
likewise the disposition of the quarters and entrench- 
ments. To this he consented, and the Prince having 
shown him all the works and attended him back to their 
rendezvous, "Well, Chevalier," said he, "when do you 
think we shall see you again?" "Faith," replied he, 
"you have used me so handsomely, that I shall con- 
ceal nothing from you. Hold yourself in readiness 
an hour before daybreak; for, you may depend upon 
it, we shall attack you to-morrow morning. I would 
not have acquainted you with this, perhaps, had I been 
entrusted with the secret, but, nevertheless, in the pres- 

^^ Gramont. 

" Henry, Duke of Montmorency, who was taken prisoner ist 
September 1692, and had his head struck off at Toulouse in the 
month of November following. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 75 

ent case you may believe me." "You are still the same 
man," said the Prince, again embracing him. The 
Chevalier returned to Monsieur de Turenne's camp 
towards night ; every preparation was then making for 
the attack of the lines, and it was no longer a secret 
among the troops. 

"Well, Monsieur le Chevalier, were they all very 
glad to see you?" said Monsieur de Turenne; "the 
Prince, no doubt, received you with the greatest kind- 
ness, and asked a great number of questions?" "He 
showed me all the civility imaginable," replied the 
Chevalier; "and, to convince me he did not take me 
for a spy, he led me round the lines and entrench- 
ments, and showed me the preparations he had made 
for your reception." "And what is his opinion?" said 
the Marshal. 

"He is persuaded that you will attack him to-night, 
or to-morrow by daybreak; for you great captains," 
continued the Chevalier, "see through each other's 
designs in a wonderful manner." 

Monsieur de Turenne with pleasure received this 
commendation from a man who was not indiscrimi- 
nately accustomed to bestow praise. He communicated 
to him the disposition of the attack; and at the same 
time acquainted him that he was very happy that a man 
nrho had seen so many actions was to be present at 
this; and that he esteemed it no small advantage to 
have the benefit of his advice; but as he believed that 
the remaining part of the night would be hardly Suffi- 
cient for his repose, after having passed the former 
without any refreshment, he consigned him to the 
Marquis d'Humieres, who provided him with a supper 
and a lodging. 

The next day the lines of Arras were attacked, 
wherein Monsieur de Turenne, being victorious, added 
additional lustre to his former glory ; and the Prince de 



j6 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Conde, though vanquished, lost nothing of his former 
reputation. 

There are so many accounts of this celebrated battle, 
that to mention it here would be altogether superfluous. 
The Chevalier de Gramont, who, as a volunteer, was 
permitted to go into every part, has given a better de- 
scription of it than any other person. Monsieur de 
Turenne reaped great advantage from that activity 
which never forsook the Chevalier either in peace or 
war; and that presence of mind which enabled him to 
carry orders, as coming from the General, so very 
apropos, that Monsieur de Turenne, otherwise very 
particular in such matters, thanked him, when the 
battle was over, in the presence of all his officers, and 
despatched him to Court with the first news of his 
success. 

All that is generally necessary in these expeditions 
is to be accustomed to hard riding, and to be well pro- 
vided with fresh horses, but he had a great many other 
obstacles to surmount. In the first place, the parties 
of the enemy were dispersed over all the country, and 
obstructed his passage. Then he had to prepare 
against greedy and officious courtiers, who, on such 
occasions, post themselves in all the roads, in order to 
cheat the poor courier out of his news. However, 
his address preserved him from the one, and deceived 
the others. 

He had taken eight or ten troopers, commanded by 
an officer of his acquaintance, to escort him half way 
to Bapaume," being persuaded that the greatest danger 
would lie between the camp and the first stage. He 
had not proceeded a league before he was convinced 
of the truth of what he suspected, and turning to the 

^ A fortified town in Artois, seated in a barren country, with- 
out rivers or springs, and having an old palace, which gave rise 
to the town, with a particular governor of its own, a royal and 
forest court In 1641 the French took it from the Spaniards. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT ^7 

officer, who followed him closely, '*If you are not well 
mounted," said he, "I would advise you to return to 
the camp; for my part, I shall set spurs to my horse, 
and make the best of my way." "Sir," said the officer, 
''I hope I shall be able to keep you company, at what- 
ever rate you go, until you are out of all danger." "I 
doubt that," replied the Chevalier, ''for those gentle- 
men there seem prepared to pay us a visit." "Don't 
you see," said the officer, "they are some of our own 
people who are grazing their horses?" "No," said the 
Chevalier; "but I see very well that they are some of 
the enemy's troopers." Upon which, observing to him 
that they were mounting, he ordered the horsemen that 
escorted him to prepare themselves to make a diver- 
sion, and he himself set off full speed towards 
Bapaume. 

He was mounted upon a very swift English horse; 
but having entangled himself in a hollow way where 
the ground was deep and miry, he soon had the 
troopers at his heels, who, supposing him to be some 
officer of rank, would not be deceived, but continued 
to pursue him, without paying any attention to the 
others. The best mounted of the party began to draw 
near him; for the English horses, swift as the wind 
on even ground, proceeded but very indifferently in 
bad roads ; the trooper presented his carbine, and cried 
out to him, at some distance, "Good quarter." The 
Chevalier de Gramont, who perceived that they gained 
upon him and that whatever efforts his horse made 
in such heavy ground, he must be overtaken at last, im- 
mediately quitted the road to Bapaume, and took a 
causeway to the left, which led quite a different way. 
As soon as he had gained it, he drew up, as if to hear 
the proposal of the trooper, which afforded his horse 
an opportunity of recovering; while his enemy, mis- 
taking his intention, and thinking that he only waited 



'j^ THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

to surrender, immediately exerted every effort, that 
he might take him before the rest of his companions, 
who were following, could arrive, and by this means 
almost killed his horse. 

One minute's reflection made the Chevalier consider 
what a disagreeable adventure it would be, thus com- 
ing from so glorious a victory, and the dangers of a 
battle so warmly disputed, to be taken by a set of 
scoundrels who had not been in it, and, instead of 
being received in triumph, and embraced by a great 
queen for the important news with which he was 
charged, to see himself stripped by the vanquished. 

During this short meditation, the trooper who fol- 
lowed him was arrived within shot, and still presenting 
his carbine, offered him good quarter, but the Chevalier 
de Gramont, to whom this offer, and the manner in 
which it was made, were equally displeasing, made a 
sign to him to lower his piece; and perceiving his 
horse to be in wind, he lowered his hand, rode off like 
lightning, and left the trooper in such astonishment 
that he even forgot to fire at him. 

As soon as he arrived at Bapaume, he changed 
horses; the commander of this place showed him the 
greatest respect, assuring him that no person had yet 
passed; that he would keep the secret, and that he 
would retain all that followed him, except the couriers 
of Monsieur de Turenne. 

He now had only to guard against those who would 
be watching for him about the environs of Peronne, to 
return as soon as they saw him, and carry his news to 
Court, without being acquainted with any of the par- 
ticulars. He knew very well that Marshal du Plessis, 
Marshal de Villeroy, and Gaboury, had boasted of this 
to the Cardinal before his departure. Wherefore, to 
elude this snare, he hired two well-mounted horsemen 
at Bapaume, and as soon as he had got a league from. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 79 

that place, and after giving them each two louis d'ors, 
to secure their fideHty, he ordered them to ride on 
before, to appear very much terrified, and to tell all 
those who should ask them any questions, "that all 
was lost; that the Chevalier de Gramont had stopped 
at Bapaume, having no great inclination to be the 
messenger of ill news ; and that as for themselves, they 
had been pursued by the enemy's troopers, who were 
spread over the whole country since the defeat." 

Everything succeeded to his wish: the horsemen 
were intercepted by Gaboury, who in his eagerness had 
outstripped the two marshals; but whatever questions 
were asked them, they acted their parts so well, that 
Peronne was already in consternation, and rumours of 
the defeat were whispered among the courtiers, when ^ 
the Chevalier de Gramont arrived. 

Nothing so enhances the value of good news as when 
a false alarm of bad has preceded; yet, though the 
Chevalier's was accompanied with this advantage, 
none but their Majesties received it with that transport 
of joy it deserved. 

The Queen kept her promise to him in the most 
fascinating manner: she embraced him before the 
whole Court ; the King appeared no less delighted ; but 
the Cardinal, whether with the view of lessening the 
merit of an action which deserved a handsome reward, 
or whether it was from a return of that insolence 
which always accompanied him in prosperity, appeared 
at first not to pay any attention to what he said, and 
being afterwards informed that the lines had been 
forced, that the Spanish army was beaten, and that 
Arras was relieved : "Is the Prince de Conde taken ?" 
said he. "No," replied the Chevalier de Gramont. 
"He is dead, then, I suppose?" said the Cardinal. 
Not so, neither," answered the Chevalier. "Fine 
news indeed!" said the Cardinal, with an air of con- 



8o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

tempt; and at these words he went into the Queen's 
cabinet with their Majesties. And happy it was for 
the Chevalier that he did so, for without doubt he 
would have given him some severe reply/* in resent- 
ment for those two fine questions, and the conclusion 
he had drawn from them. 

The Court was filled with the Cardinal's spies: 
the Chevalier, as is usual on such an occasion, was 
surrounded by a crowd of courtiers and inquisitive 
people, and he was very glad to ease himself of some 
part of the load which laid heavy on his heart, within 
the hearing of the Cardinal's creatures, and which he 
would perhaps have told him to his face. "Faith, 
gentlemen," said he, with a sneer, ''there is nothing like 
being zealous and eager in the service of kings and 
great princes : you have seen what a gracious reception 
his Majesty has given me; you are likewise witnesses 
in what an obliging manner the Queen kept her prom- 
ise with me, but as for the Cardinal, he has received 
my news as if he gained no more by it than he did by 
the death of Peter Mazarin."^' 

This was sufficient to terrify all those who were 
sincerely attached to him; and the best established 
fortune would have been ruined at some period by a 
jest much less severe ; for it was delivered in the pres- 
ence of witnesses, who were only desirous of having 
an opportunity of representing it in its utmost malig- 
nancy, to make a merit of their vigilance with a power- 

"This spirit seems not always to have attended him in his 
transactions with the Cardinal. On occasion of the entry of the 
King in 1660, "Le Chevalier de Gramont, Rouvill'e, Bellefonds, 
and some other courtiers, attended in the Cardinal's suite, a 
degree of flattery which astonished everybody who knew him. I 
was informed that the Chevalier wore a very rich orange col- 
oured dress on that occasion" (Letters de Maintenon, vol. i. p. 32). 

" Peter Mazarin was the Cardinal's father. He was a native 
of Palermo in Sicily, which place he left in order to settle at 
Rome, where he died in the year 1654. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 8i 

ful and absolute minister. Of this the Chevalier de 
Gramont was thoroughly convinced; yet whatever 
detriment he foresaw might arise from it, he could 
not help being much pleased with what he had said. 

The spies very faithfully discharged their duty; 
however, the affair took a very different turn from 
what they expected. The next day, when the Chevalier 
de Gramont was present while their Majesties were at 
dinner, the Cardinal came in, and coming tip to him, 
everybody making way for him out of respect : "Chev- 
alier," said he, "the news which you have brought is 
very good ; their Majesties are very well satisfied with 
it; and to convince you it is more advantageous to 
me than the death of Peter Mazarin, if you will come 
and dine with me we will have some play together; 
for the Queen will give us something to play for, over 
and above her first promise." 

In this manner did the Chevalier de Gramont dare 
to provoke a powerful minister, and this was all the 
resentment which the least vindictive of all statesmen 
expressed on the occasion. It was indeed very un- 
usual for so young a man to reverence the authority 
of ministers no farther than as they were themselves 
respectable by their merit; for this his own breast, as 
well as the whole Court, applauded him, and he en- 
joyed the satisfaction of being the only man who durst 
preserve the least shadow of liberty in a general state 
of servitude. But it was perhaps owing to the Car- 
dinal's passing over this insult with impunity, that he 
afterwards drew upon himself some difficulties, by 
other rash expressions less fortunate in the event. 

In the meantime, the Court returned. The Cardinal, 
who was sensible that he could no longer keep his 
master in a state of tutelage — ^belng himself worn 
out with cares and sickness, and having amassed treas- 
ures he knew not what to do with, and being suffi- 



S2 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 



clently loaded with the weight of pubHc odium, — - 
turned all his thoughts towards terminating, in d man- 
ner the most advantageous for France, a ministry 
which had so cruelly shaken that kingdom. Thus, 
while he was earnestly laying the foundations of a 
peace so ardently wished for, pleasure and plenty 
began to reign at Court. 

The Chevalier de Gramont experienced for a long 
time a variety of fortune in love and gaming : he was 
esteemed by the courtiers, beloved by beauties whom 
he neglected, and a dangerous favourite of those whom 
he admired; more successful in play than in his 
amours; but the one indemnifying him for want of 
success in the other, he was always full of life and 
spirits; and in all transactions of importance, always a 
man of honour. 

It IS a pity that we must be forced here to interrupt 
the course of his history, by an interval of some years, 
as has been already done at the commencement of 
these Memoirs. In a life where the most minute 
circumstances are always singular and diverting, we 
can meet with no chasm which does not afford regret ; 
but whether he did not think them worthy of holding 
a place among his other adventures, or that he has only 
preserved a confused idea of them, we must pass to 
the parts of these fragments which are better ascer- 
tained, that we may arrive at the subject of his journey 
to England. 

The peace of the Pyrenees," the King's marriage," 
the return of the Prince de Conde/" and the death of 

*^This treaty was concluded 7th November 1659. 

"Louis XIV. with Maria, the Infanta Theresa of^ Spain 
(daughter of King Philip IV. and Maria-Theresa of Austria, who 
was born 20th September 1638, married ist June 1660, and 
entered Paris 26th August following. She died at Versailles 30th 
July 1683, and was buried at St. Denis. 

**iith April (see De Retz's Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 119). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 83 

the Cardinal, gave a new face to the State/^ The eyes 
of the whole nation were fixed upon their King", who, 
for nobleness of mien, and gracefulness of person, had 
no equal; but it was not then known that he was 
possessed of those superior abilities, which, filling his 
subjects with admiration, in the end made him so 
formidable to Europe. Love and ambition, the invis- 
ible springs of the intrigues and cabals of all courts, 
attentively observed his first steps : pleasure promised 
herself an absolute empire over a prince who had been 
kept in ignorance of the necessary rules of government, 
and ambition had no hopes of reigning in the Court 
except in the minds of those who were able to dispute 
the management of affairs; when men were surprised 
to see the King on a sudden display such brilliant 
abilities, which prudence, in some measure necessary, 
had so long obliged him to conceal. 

An application, inimical to the pleasures which gen- 
erally attract that age, and which unlimited power very 
seldom refuses, attached him solely to the cares of 
government. All admired this wonderful change, but 
all did not find their account in it : the great lost their 
consequence before an absolute master and the cour- 
tiers approached with reverential awe the sole object 
of their respects and the sole master of their fortunes : 
those who had conducted themselves like petty tyrants 
in their provinces, and on the frontiers, were now no 
more than governors : favours, according to the King's 
pleasure, were sometimes conferred on merit, and 
sometimes for services done the State; but to impor- 
tune, or to menace the Court, was no longer the 
method to obtain them. 

The Chevalier de Gramont regarded hi 3 master's 
attention to the affairs of state as a prodigy : he could 
not conceive how he could submit at his age to the 
"Ot. 9th March 1661, aef. 59. 



84 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

rules he prescribed himself, or that he should gfve up 
so many hours of pleasure, to devote them to the 
tiresome duties and laborious functions of govern- 
ment; but he blessed the Lord that henceforward no 
more homage was to be paid, no more court to be 
made, but to him alone to whom they were justly due. 
Disdaining as he did the servile adoration usually paid 
to a minister, he could never crouch before the power 
of the two Cardinals who succeeded each other: 
he neither worshipped the arbitrary power of the 
one, nor gave his approbation to the artifices of the 
other; he had never received anything from Cardi- 
nal Richelieu but an abbey, which on account of his 
rank, could not be refused him; and he never ac- 
quired anything from Mazarin but what he won of 
him at play. 

By many years' experience under an able general he 
had acquired a talent for war ; but this during a gen- 
eral peace was of no further service to him. He there- 
fore thought that, in the midst of a Court flourishing 
in beauties and abounding in wealth, he could not 
employ himself better than in endeavouring to gain 
the good opinion of his master, in making the best 
use of those advantages which nature had given him 
for play, and in putting in practice new stratagems 
in love. 

He succeeded very well in the two first of these 
projects, and as he had from that time laid it down 
as the rule of his conduct to attach himself solely to 
the King in all his views of preferment, to have no 
regard for favour unless when it was supported by 
merit, to make himself beloved by the courtiers and 
feared by the minister, to dare to undertake anything 
in order to do good, and to engage in nothing at the 
expense of innocence, he soon became one in all the 
King's parties of pleasure, without gaining the ill-will 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 85 

of the courtiers. In play he was successful, in love 
unfortunate; or, to speak more properly, his restless- 
ness and jealousy overcame his natural prudence, in a 
situation wherein he had most occasion for it. La 
Motte Argencourf' was one of the maids of honour to 
the Queen Dowager, and though no sparkling beauty, 
she had drawn away lovers from the celebrated Mene- 
ville.'* It was sufficient in those days for the King 
to cast his eye upon a young lady of the Court to in- 
spire her with hopes, and often with tender sentiments ; 
but if he spoke to her more than once, the courtiers 
took it for granted, and those who had either preten- 
sions to, or love for her, respectfully withdrew both 
the one and the other, and afterwards only paid her' 
respect. But the Chevalier de Gramont thought fit to 
act quite otherwise, perhaps to preserve a singularity 
of character, which upon the present occasion was of 
no avail. 

He had never before thought of her, but as soon as 
he found that she was honoured with the King's at- 
tention, he was of opinion that she was likewise de- 
serving of his. Having attached himself to her, he 
soon became very troublesome, without convincing her 
he was much in love. She grew weary of his persecu- 
tions, but he would not desist, neither on account of her 
ill-treatment nor of her threats. This conduct of his 
at first made no great noise, because she was in hopes 
that he would change his behaviour; but finding him 
rashly persist in it, she complained of him ; and then it 
was that he perceived that if love renders all conditions 

^ Should be La ^ Motte Houdancourt, a ^ niece of Marshal 
Houdancourt. Louis XIV. is said to have paid addresses to this 
b'eauty in 1662, with less success than her rival, La Valliere. She 
married the Marquis de la Vieuville. Mademoiselle de la Mothe- 
Argencourt was the mistress of the Marquis de Richelieu (see 
Viz'etelly's edition of the Memoirs^ vol. i. p. 118, note). 

** Mademoiselle de Meneville, notorious for her gallantries. 



86 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

equal, it is not so between rivals. He was banished 
the Court, and not finding any place in France which 
could console him for what he most regretted — the 
presence and sight of his Prince — after having made 
some slight reflections upon his disgrace, and bestowed 
a few imprecations against her who was the cause of 
it, he at last formed the resolution of visiting England. 



CHAPTER VI 

CURIOSITY to see a man equally famous for his 
crimes and his elevation, had once before in- 
duced the Chevalier de Gramont to visit Eng- 
land. Reasons of state assume great privileges. 
Whatever appears advantageous is lawful, and every- 
thing that is necessary is honourable in politics. While 
the King of England sought the protection of Spain 
in the Low Countries, and that of the States-General 
in Holland, other powers sent splendid embassies to 
Cromwell. 

This man, whose ambition had opened him a way 
to sovereign power by the greatest crimes, maintained 
himself in it by accomplishments which seemed to 
render him worthy of it by their lustre. The nation 
of all Europe the least submissive patiently bore a 
yoke which did not even leave her the shadow of 
that liberty of which she is so jealous; and Cromwell, 
master of the Commonwealth, under the title of Pro- 
tector, feared at home, but yet more dreaded abroad, 
was at his highest pitch of glory when he was seen 
by the Chevalier de Gramont; but the Chevalier did 
not see any appearance of a court. One part of the 
nobility proscribed, the other removed from employ- 
ments; an affectation of purity of manners, instead of 
the luxury which the pomp of courts displays, all 
taken together presented nothing but sad and serious 
objects in the finest city in the world ; and therefore 
the Chevalier acquired nothing by this voyage but the 
idea of some merit in a profligate man, and the ad- 

87 



8S THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

miration of some concealed beauties he had found 
means to discover. 

Affairs wore quite a different appearance at his 
second voyage. The joy for the Restoration of the 
Royal Family still appeared in all parts. The nation, 
fond of change and novelty, tasted the pleasure of a 
natural government, and seemed to breathe again after 
a long oppression. In short, the same people who, by 
a solemn abjuration, had excluded even the posterity 
of their lawful sovereign, exhausted themselves in 
festivals and rejoicings for his return.^ 

The Chevalier de Gramont arrived about two years 
after the Restoration. The reception he met with in 
this Court soon made him forget the other; and the 
engagements he in the end contracted in England 
lessened the regret he had in leaving France. 

This was a desirable retreat for an exile of his dis- 
position. Everything flattered his taste, and if the 
adventures he had in this country were not the most 
considerable, they were at least the most agreeable of 
his life. But before we relate them it will not be im- 
proper to give some account of the English Court as 
it was at that period, 

* Bishop Buraet confirms this account. " With the restoration 
of the King," says he, "a spirit of extravagant joy spread over 
the nation, that brought on with it the throwing off the very 
professions of virtue and piety. All ended in entertainments 
and drunkenness which overrun the three kingdoms to such a 
degree, that it very much corrupted all their morals. Under the 
colour of drinking the King's health, there were great disorders, 
and much riot everywhere : and the pretences of religion, both in 
those of the hypocritical sort, and of the more honest, but no 
less pernicious enthusiasts, gave great advantages, as Well as 
they furnished much matter to the profane mockers of true 
piety" (History of his Own Time, vol. i. p. 127, 8vo edit.). 
Voltaire says King Charles " was received at Dover by twenty 
thousand of his subjects, who fell upon their knees before him ; 
and I have been told by some old men who were of this num- 
ber, that hardly any of those who were present could refrain 
from tears" (Age of Louis XIV. chap. v.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 89 

The necessity of affairs had exposed Charles II. 
from his earhest youth to the toils and perils of a 
bloody war. The fate of the King, his father, had left 
him for inheritance nothing but his misfortunes and 
disgraces. They overtook him everywhere ; but it was 
not until he had struggled with his ill-fortune to the 
last extremity that he submitted to the decrees of 
Providence. 

All those who were either great on account of their 
birth or their loyalty had followed him into exile ; and 
all the young persons of the greatest distinction having 
afterwards joined him, composed a Court worthy of a 
better fate. 

Plenty and prosperity, which are thought to tend 
only to corrupt manners, found nothing to spoil in an 
indigent and wandering Court. Necessity, on the con- 
trary, which produces a thousand advantages whether 
we will or no, served them for education ; and nothing 
was to be seen among them but an emulation in glory, 
politeness, and virtue. 

With this little Court, in such high esteem for merit, 
the King of England returned two years prior to the 
period we mention, to ascend a throne which, to all 
appearances, he was to fill as worthily as the most 
glorious of his predecessors. The magnificence dis- 
played on this occasion was renewed at his coronation." 

The death of the Duke of Gloucester,' and of the 

'Pepys gives a graphic account of the Coronation festivities, 
etc., in his Diary, 22nd to 24th April 1661. 

^ Henry, Duke of Gloucester, youngest child of Charles I., 
born 1640. He died of the smallpox 3rd September 1660, and, 
according to Pepys, in a great measure owing to the negligence 
of his doctors. Both the King and his brother James were much 
affected by his loss. "He was a prince," says James, "of the 
greatest hopes, undaunted courage, admirable parts, and a clear 
understanding." He had a particular talent at languages. Besides 
the Latin, he was master of the French, the Spanish, the Italian, 
and Low Dutch. He was, in short, possessed of all the natural 
qualities, as well as acquired accomplishments, necessary to make 



90 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Princess Royal/ which followed soon after, had inter- 
rupted the course of this splendour by a tedious mourn- 
ing, which the Court quitted at last to prepare for the 
reception of the Infanta of Portugal.' 

It was in the height of the rejoicings they were 

a great prince (Macpherson's History of Great Britain, ch. i.). 
Bishop Burnet's character of this young prince is also very 
favourable (see History of His Own Time, vol. i. p. 238). 

* Mary, eldest daughter of Charles I. and mother of William 
III., born 4th November 1631, married to the Prince of Orange 
2nd May 1641, who died 27th October 1650. She arrived in 
England 23rd September, and died of the smallpox 24th Decem- 
ber 1660 — according to Burnet, not much lamented. " She had 
lived," says the Bishop, " in her widowhood for some years with 
great reputation, kept a decent Court, and supported her brothers 
very liberally; and lived within bounds. But her mother, who 
had the art of making herself believe anything she had a mind 
to, upon a conversation with the Queen Mother of France, 
fancied the King of France might be inclined to marry her. So 
she wrote to her to come to Paris. In order to that, she made 
an equipage far above what she could support. So she ran her 
self into debt, sold all her jewels, and some estates that were in 
her power as her son's guardian ; and was not only disappointed 
of that vain expectation, but fell into some misfortunes that 
lessened the reputation she had formerly lived in" {History of 
his Own Time, vol. i. p. 238). 

^Catherine of Braganza {h. 1638, oh. 1705). "The Infanta of 
Portugal landed 14th May 1662 at Portsmouth. The King went 
thither, and was married privately by Lord Aubigny, a secular 
priest, and almoner to the Queen, according to the rites of Rome, 
in the Queen's chamber; none present but the Portuguese Am- 
bassador, three more Portuguese of quality, and two or three 
Portuguese women. What made this necessary was that the 
Earl of Sandwich did not marry her by proxy, as usual, before 
she came away. How this happened, the Duke knows not, nor 
did the Chancellor know of this private marriage. The Queen 
would not be bedded till pronounced man and wife by Sheldon, 
Bishop of London" (James II.'s Journal; Macpherson's State 
Papers, vol. i.). Though Charles told Colonel Legge that at 
the first sight of his wife " he thought they had brought him a 
hat instead of a woman," his letter to Lord Clarendon, dated 
from Portsmouth 21st May, records that he was not unfavoura- 
bly impressed upon the first meeting. "She hath as much agree- 
ableness in her looks as ever I saw," he says, " and if I have any 
skill in physiognomy, which I think I have, she must be a good 
woman as ever was born. Her conversation, as much as I can 
perceive, is very good; for she has wit enough, and a most 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 91 

making for this new queen, in all the splendour of a 
brilliant court, that the Chevalier de Gramont arrived 
to contribute to its magnificence and diversions/ 

Accustomed as he was to the grandeur of the Court 
of France, he was surprised at the politeness and splen- 
dour of the Court of England. The King was inferior 
to none,' either in shape or air; his wit was pleasant; 
his disposition easy and affable; his soul, susceptible 
of opposite impressions, was compassionate to the un- 
happy, inflexible to the wicked, and tender even to 
excess; he showed great abilities in urgent affairs, 
but was incapable of application to any that were not 
so: his heart was often the dupe, but oftener the 
slave, of his engagements. 

The character of the Duke of York* was entirely 
different : he had the reputation of undaunted courage, 

agreeable voice. You will wonder to see how well we are 
acquainted already: in a word, I think myself very happy, for I 
am confident our two humours will agree very well together." 

In the register of St. Thomas a Becket, Portsmouth, may be 
seen the entry of the King's marriage with his Portuguese wife. 

"Charles and his bride arrived at Hampton Court 29th May 
1662, and the Court removed to London probably some time in 
June. 

■^Charles II. was born 29th May 1630, and died 6th February 
1684-5. His character is very amply detailed and accurately 
depicted by George Saville, Marquis of Halifax. See also Evelyn, 
Burnet, Clarendon, and Sheffield, Duke of Buckingham, etc. 

® James, Duke of York, afterwards King James II. He was 
born 15th October 1633 ; succeeded his brother 6th February 
1684-5; abdicated the crown in 1688; and died 6th September 
1701. Bishop Burnet's character of him appears not very far 
from the truth, " He was," says this writer, " very brave in his 
youth ; and so much magnified by Monsieur Turenne, that till 
his marriage lessened him, he really clouded the King, and 
passed for the superior genius. He was naturally candid and 
sincere, and a firm friend, till affairs and his religion wore out 
all his first principles and inclinations. He had a great desire to 
understand affairs; and in order to that he kept a constant 
journal of all that passed, of which he showed me a great deal. 
The Duke of Buckingham gave me once a short but severe 
character of the two brothers. It was the more severe, because 
it was true; the King (he said) could see things if he would; 



92 THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

an inviolable attachment for his word, great economy 
in his affairs, hauteur, application, arrogance, each in 
their turn. A scrupulous observer of the rules of duty 
and the laws of justice, he was accounted a faithful 
friend, and an implacable enemy. 

His morality and justice, struggling for some time 
with prejudice, had at last triumphed, by his acknowl- 
edging for his wife Miss Hyde,* maid of honour to 
the Princess Royal, whom he had secretly married in 

and the Duke would see things if he could. He had no true 
judgment, and was soon determined by those whom he trusted: 
but he was obstinate against all other advices. He was bred 
with high notions of kingly authority, and laid it down for a 
maxim, that all who opposed the King were rebels in their 
hearts. He was perpetually in one amour or other, without 
being very nice in his choice : ' upon which the King once said, 
he believed his brother had his mistress given him by his priests 
for penance. He was naturally eager and revengeful : and was 
against the taking off any that set up in an opposition to the 
measures of the Court, and 'who by that means grew popular 
in the House of Commons. He was for rougher methods. He 
continued many years dissembling his religion, and seemed 
zealous for the Church of England, but it was chiefly on design 
to hinder all propositions that tended to unite us among our- 
selves. He was a frugal prince, and brought his Court into 
method and magnificence, for he had £100,000 a year allowed 
him. He was made High Admiral, and he came to understand 
all the concerns of the s'ea very particularly" (History of his 
Own Time.) 

® Anne Hyde, eldest daughter of Lord Chancellor Clarendon (b. 
1637, ob. 1671). James himself mentions his marriage in these 
terms: "The King at first* refused the Duke of York's marriage 
with Miss Hyde. Many of the Duke's friends and servants 
opposed it. The King at last consented, and the Duke of York 
privately married her, and soon after owned the marriage. 
Her want of birth was made up by endowments; and her car- 
riage afterwards became her acquired dignity." Again: "When 
his sister, the Princess Royal, came to Paris to see the Queen 
Mother, the Duke of York fell in love with Mrs. Anne Hyde, 
one of her maids of honour. Besides her person, she had all the 
qualities proper to inflame a h'eart less apt to take fire than his ; 
which she managed so well as to bring his passion to such an 
height, that, between the time he first saw her and the winter 
before the King's restoration, he resolved to marry none but her ; 
and promised her to do it: and though, at first, when the Duke 
asked the King his brother for his leave, he refused, and 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 93 

Holland. Her father," from that time Prime" Min- 
ister of England, supported by this new interest, soon 
rose to the head of affairs, and had almost ruined 
them : not that he wanted capacity, but he was too self- 
sufficient. 

dissuaded him from it, yet at last he opposed it no more; and 
the Duke married her privately, owned it some time after, and 
was ever after a true friend to the Chancellor for several years" 
(Macpherson's State Papers, vol. i.). Pepys in his Diary, 7th 
October 1660, says : " To my Lord's, and dined with him ; he 
all dinner-time talking French to me, and telling me the story 
how the Duke of York hath got the Lord Chancellor's daughter 
with child, and that she do lay it to him, and that for certain 
he did promise her marriage, and had signed it with his blood, 
but that he by stealth had got the paper out of her cabinet. 
And that the King would have him to marry her, but that he 
will not. So that the thing is very bad for the Duke and them 
all ; but my Lord do make light of it, as a thing that he believes is 
not a new thing for the Duke to do abroad." Again, 23rd 
February 1660-1 : " Mr. Hartlett told me how my Lord Chan- 
cellor had lately got the Duke of York and Duchesse and her 
woman, my Lord Ossory, and a doctor, to make oath before most 
of the judges of the kingdom, concerning all the circumstances 
of the marriage. And in fine, it is confessed that they were not 
fully married till about a month or two before she was brought 
to bed; but that they were contracted long before, and time 
enough for the child to be legitimate. But I do not hear that it 
was put to the judges to determine whether it was so or no." She 
was contracted to the Duke at Breda, 24th November 1659, and 
married at Worcester House, 3rd September 1660, in the night, 
between eleven and two, by Dr. Joseph Crowther, the Duke's 
chaplain; the Lord Ossory giving her in marriage (Kennet's 
Register, p. 246). 

*° Edward Hyde, Earl of Clarendon (&. 1608, oh. 1674), "for 
his comprehensive knowledge of mankind, styled the Chancellor 
of Human Nature. His character, at this distance of time, may 
and ought to be impartially considered. Designing or blinded 
contemporaries heaped the most unjust abuse upon him. The 
subsequent age, when the partisans of prerogative were at least 
the loudest, if not the most numerous, smit with a work that 
deified their martyr, have been unbounded in their encomium** 
{Catalogue of Noble Authors, vol. ii. p. 18). Lord Orford, 
who professes to steer a middle course, and separate his great 
virtues as a man from his faults as an historian, acknowledg'es 
that he possessed almost every virtue of a minister which could 
make his character venerable. 

"Then already a minister (Vizetelly's translation). 



94 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

The Duke of Ormonde^' possessed the confidence and 
esteem of his master : the greatness of his services, the 
splendour of his merit and his birth, and the fortune he 
had abandoned in adhering tO' the fate of his Prince, 
rendered him worthy of it: nor durst the courtiers 
even murmur at seeing him Grand Steward of the 
Household, First Lord of the Bedchamber, and Lord- 
Lieutenant of Ireland. He exactly resembled the 
Marshal de Gramont, in the turn of his wit and the 
nobleness of his manners, and like him was the honour 
of his master's court. 

The Duke of Buckingham^^ and the Earl of St. 
Albans" were the same in England as they appeared in 

"James Butler, Duke of Ormonde (b. i6to, ob. 1688). This 
distinguished Royalist succeeded his grandfather as twelfth Earl 
in 1632, and was created Duke at the Restoration. During the 
Civil War he held Ireland for the King when Charles fell into 
the hands of the Parliament, when he retired to France. Bishop 
Burnet says of him : " He was a man every way fitted for a 
court; of a graceful appearance, a lively wit, and a cheerful 
temper ; a man of great expense ; decent even in his vices, for he 
always kept up the form of religion. He had gone through many 
transactions in Ireland with more fidelity than success. He had 
made a treaty with the Irish, which was broken by the great 
body of them, though some few of them adhered still to him. 
But the whole Irish nation did still pretend, that though they 
had broke the agreement first, yet he, or rather the King, in 
whose name he had treated with them, was bound to perform all 
the articles of the treaty. He had miscarried so in the siege of 
Dublin, that it very much lessened the opinion of his military 
conduct. Yet his constant attendance on his master, his easiness 
to him, and his great suffering for him, raised him to be Lord- 
Steward of the Household, and Lord-Lieutenant of Ireland. He 
was firm to the Protestant religion, and so far firm to the laws, 
that he always gave good advices; but when bad ones were 
followed, he was not for complaining too much of them" 
(History of his Own Time, vol. i. p. 230). An interesting 
detailed account of Ormonde's last days is given by his friend. 
Sir Robert Southwell (see Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. pp. 
757-758). 

""The Duke of Buckingham is again one hundred and forty 
thousand pounds in debt, and by this prorogation his creditors 
have time to tear all his lands to pieces" (Andrew Marvell's 
Works, 4to edit. vol. i. p. 406). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 95 

France: the one, full of wit and vivacity, dissipated, 
without splendour, an immense estate upon which he 
had just entered : the other, a man of no great genius, 
had raised himself a considerable fortune from noth- 
ing, and by losing at play, and keeping a great table, 
made it appear greater than it was. 

Sir George Berkeley/" afterwards Earl of Falmouth, 

" Henry Jermyn, younger son of Sir Thomas Jermyn, was 
attached at an early age to the Court of Charles L, and during 
the Civil War acted as Secretary to the Queen, to whose favour 
he owed his advancement. In 1643 he was created Baron Jermyn 
of Bury St. Edmunds, and in the following year was appointed 
Governor of Jersey. His rival and enemy, Lord Clarendon, 
records that out of the scanty finances of the exiled court Jermyn 
managed to live luxuriously. When the young King left France 
for the Netherlands, Jermyn remained at Paris with the queen 
mother, to whom, by current report, he was secretly married, and 
treated far from well (vide Pepys, Reresby, and Burn'et). In 
1660 he was created Earl of St. Albans, and acted as English 
Ambassador at the Court of France, where he had great in- 
fluence, and helped in a great measure the secret treaty with 
Louis XIV. In 1671 he was appointed Lord Chamberlain of the 
King's Household. Jermyn died at his house in St. James's 
Square in January 1683-4 (ct^t- about eighty). [This square was 
originally planned by him.] Evelyn, who saw the Earl a few 
months before his death, says that though he was nearly blind 
he was as great a gambler as ever and had to have " some one 
that sits by him to name the spots on the cards. He ate and 
drank with extraordinary appetite, though he could not see to 
take his food" (vide Evelyn's Diary, i8th August 1683). For 
many years Cowley acted as his private secretary. Andrew 
Marvell does not allude to him in flattering terms: he speaks of 
his "drayman's shoulders and butcher's mien" ("Last Instruc- 
tions to a Painter," see Diet, of Nat Biography, vol. xxix. pp. 
342-344). The old seat of the Jermyns, Rushbrooke Hall, near 
Bury St. Edmunds, is full of memories of the Stuarts — relics, 
portraits, etc. The rooms, with their quaint old furniture, are 
in their original state. 

^^This was not Georg-e, but Charles Berkeley, second son of 
Sir Charles Berkeley (who, like his brother, Sir John Berkeley 
of Stratton [the author of the Berkeley Memoirs] was eminently 
loyal to Charles T.). He was the principal favourite and com- 
panion of the Duke of York in all his campaigns. He was created 
Baron Berkeley of Rathdown, and Viscount (1663) Fitzharding 
of Ireland, and Earl of Falmouth in 1665. Lord Clarendon calls 
him "a fellow of great wickedness," and says, "he was one in 



56 THE COURT OF CHARIIES IT 

was the confidant and favourite of the King: he 
commanded the Duke of York's regiment of guards, 
and governed the Duke himself. He had nothing 
very remarkable either in his wit or his person; but 
I his sentiments were worthy of the fortune which 
awaited him, when, on the very point of his elevation, 
he was killed at sea. Never did disinterestedness so 
perfectly characterise the greatness of the soul: he 
had no views but what tended to the glory of his 
master : his credit was never employed but in advising 

whom few other mfen (except the King) had ever observed any 
virtue or quality, which they did not wish their best friends 
without. He was young and of an unsatiable ambition, and a 
little more experience might have taught him all things which 
his weak parts were capable of" (Clarendon's Life, pp. 34, 267). 
Bishop Burnet is rather more favourablfe. " Berkeley," says he, 
"was generous in his expense; and it was thought if he had out- 
lived the lewdness of that time and come to a more sedate 
course of life, he would have put the King on great and noble 
designs" {History, vol. i. p. 137). While Pepys says he owed 
his greatness to being " a pimp to the King and my Lady Castle- 
maine," being able to bring the former to the latter from the 
Council Chamber whenever he pleased {Diary, 15th Dec. 1662 
and 31st July 1663). He lost his life in the action at Southwold 
Bay, 2nd June 1665 by a shot, which, at the same time, killed 
Lord Muskerry and Mr. Boyle, as they wfere standing on the 
Quarter-deck, near the Duke of York. Pepys thus records the 
fact : " The Earl of Falmouth, Muskerry, and Mr. Boyle killed on 
board the Duke's ship, The Royal Charles, with one shot; their 
blood and brains flying in the Duke's face, and the head of Mr. 
Boyle striking down the Duke as some say" {Diary, 8th June 
1665). "He was," says Clarendon, "lamented by the King with 
floods of tears, to the amazement of all who had seen how un- 
shaken he stood on other assaults of fortune" {Clarendon's Life, 
p. 269). Even his death did not save him from Marvell's satire. 

"Falmouth was there, T know not what to act. 
Some say, 'twas to grow duke too by contract; 
An untaught bullet, in its wanton scope. 
Dashes him all to pieces, and his hope : 
Such was his rise, such was his fall unpraised, — 
A chance shot sooner took him than chance raised; 
His shattered head the fearless duke disdains, 
And gave the last first proof that he had brains." 

Advice to a Painter, p. I, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 97 

him to reward services, or to confer favours on merit : 
so polished in conversation, that the greater his power, 
the greater was his humihty; and so sincere in all his 
proceedings, that he would never have been taken for 
^ courtier. 

The Duke of Ormonde's sons and his nephews had 
been in the King's Court during his exile, and were 
far from diminishing its lustre after his return. The 
Earl of Arran" had a singular address in all kinds of 
exercises, played well at tennis and on the guitar, 
and was pretty successful in gallantry. His elder 
brother, the Earl of Ossory," was not so lively, 
but of the most liberal sentiments, and of great 
brobity. 

"Richard Butler, Earl of Arran, fifth son of James Butler, 
the first Duke of Ormonde (b. 1639, ob. 1686). Created Earl of 
Arran 1662. He married in 1664 Lady Mary Stuart, only sur- 
viving daughter of James, Duke of Richmond and Lennox, by 
Mary, only daughter of the great Duke of Buckingham (she 
died three years later, aged 18). In 1673 he married, secondly, 
Dorothy, daughter of John Ferrers of Tamworth. His only 
daughter, Charlotte, married Charles, Lord Cornwallis. Pepys 
speaks of his "glorious dancing" at the masquerade of 2nd 
February 1664 (vide chap. vii. of these Memoirs) , when th'e 
Earl of Mulgrave was disgraced for paying his addresses to the 
Princess Anne, of whom he was also an admirer (vide Hist 
MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 480). 

" Thomas, Earl of Ossory, eldest son of the first, and father of 
the last Duke of Ormonde (b. 1634, ^^- 1680). At the age of 
twenty-one years he had so much distinguished himself that Sir 
Robert Southwell then drew the following character of him: 
" He is a young man with a very handsome face ; a good head of 
hair; well set; very good natured; rides the great horse very 
well; is a very good tennis-player, fencer, and dancer; under- 
stands music, and plays on the guitar and lute; speaks French 
elegantly; reads Italian fluentl]^; is a good historian; and so 
well versed in romances that if a gallery be full of pictures 
and hangings he will tell the stories of all that are th'ere 
described. He shuts up his door at eight o'clock in the evening 
and studies till midnight: he is temperate, courteous, and excel- 
lent in all his behaviour. Lord Ossory married In 1659 Emille de 
Nassau, eldest daughter of Louis de Nassau, Lord Beverwaert, 
in Holland, the illegitimate son of Maurice, Prince of Orange. 
Her sister married Lord Arlington. 



98 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

The elder of the Hamiltons," their cousin, was the 
man who of all the Court dressed best: he was well 
made in his person, and possessed those happy talents 
which lead to fortune, and procure success in love : he 
was a most assiduous courtier, had the most lively wit, 
the most polished manners, and the most punctual at- 
tention to his master imaginable. No person danced 
better, nor was any one a more general lover : a merit 
of some account in a court entirely devoted to love 
and gallantry. 

It is not at all surprising, that with these qualities 
he succeeded my Lord Falmouth in the King's favour ; 
but it is very extraordinary that he should have 
experienced the same destiny, as if this sort of 
war had been declared against merit only, and 
as if this sort of combat was fatal to none but 
such as had certain hopes of a splendid fortune. 
This, however, did not happen till some years 
afterwards. 

The beau Sidney " less dangerous than he appeared 
to be, had not sufficient vivacity to support the im- 
pression which his figure made ; but little Jermyn was 
on all sides successful in his intrigues. The old Earl 
of St. Albans, his uncle, had for a long time adopted 
him, though the youngest of all his nephews. It is 
well known what a table the good'" man kept at Paris, 
while the King, his master, was starving at Brussels, 

^* James Hamilton, eldest son of Sir Georg'e Hamilton. He 
and his younger brother George are the two Hamiltons who 
figure in the Memoirs. Oh. 1673, vide Prefatory Notice. 

"Henry Sidney {oh. 1704), youngest son of Robert Sidney, 
second Earl of Leicester, and brother of Algernon and Colonel 
Robert (the reputed father of the Duke of Monmouth [vide 
King Monmouth^). He attended Charles H. in exile, and was 
Master of the Horse to Anne Hyde, Duchess of York. He was 
created Earl of Romney in 1694 {vide his Diary and Corre- 
spondence, 1843). Burnet says he was much addicted to pleasure, 
and that some of his adventures became very public. 

^ Old, not goed (Vizetelly's translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 99 

and the Queen Dowager, his mistress," lived not over 
well in France. 

^^ To what a miserable state the Queen was reduced may be 
seen in the following extract from De Retz : " Four or five 
days before the King removed from Paris, I went to visit the 
Queen of England, whom I found in her daughter's chamber, who 
hath been since Duchess of Orleans. At my coming in she said : 
' You see I am come to keep Henrietta company. The poor 
child could not rise to-day for want of a fire.' The truth is, that 
the Cardinal for six months together had not ordered her any 
money towards her pension ; that no tradespeople would trust 
her for anything; and that there was not at her lodgings in the 
Louvre one single billet. You will do me the justice to suppose 
that the Princess of England did not keep her bed the next day 
for want of a faggot; but it was not this which the Princess 
of Conde meant in her letter. What she spoke about was, that 
some days after my visiting the Queen of England, I remem- 
bered the condition I had found her in, and had strongly repre- 
sented the shame of abandoning her in that manner, which caused 
the Parliament to send 40,000 livres to Her Majesty. Posterity 
will hardly believe that a Princess of England, granddaughter 
of Henry the Great, had wanted a faggot, in the month of 
January, to get out of bed in the Louvre, and in the eyes of a 
French court. We read in histories, with horror, of baseness less 
monstrous than this ; and the little concern I have met with 
about it in most people's minds has obliged me to make, I believe, 
a thousand times, this reflection : that examples of times past 
move men beyond comparison more than those of their own 
times. We accustom ourselves to what we see; and I have 
sometimes told you, that I doubted whether Caligula's horse 
being made a consul would have surprised us so much as we 
imagine" {Memoirs, vol. i. p. 261). As for the relative situation 
of the King and Lord Jermyn (afterwards St. Albans), Lord 
Clarendon says, that the "Marquis of Ormonde was compelled 
to put himself in prison, with other gentlem'en, at a pistole a 
week for his diet, and to walk the streets a- foot, which was no 
honourable custom in Paris, whilst the Lord Jermyn kept an 
excellent table for those who courted him, and had a coach of 
his own, and all other accommodations incident to the most full 
fortune: and If the King had the most urgent occasion for the 
use but of twenty pistoles, as sometimes he had, he could not 
find credit to borrow it, which he often had experiment of" 
(History of the Rebellion, vol. iii. p. 2). Lord Dartmouth, in a 
note to Burnet's History of his Own Time, mentions a story of 
how the Duke of Hamilton was upon one occasion an unwilling 
witness to some love passage between Jermyn and the Queen, 
and in an old MS. volume in the possession of the Earl of 
Egmont is the following curious fentry: "Queen Henrietta Maria 

4 — Memoirs Vol. 4 



100 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Jermyn,*' supported by his uncle's wealth, found it 
no difficult matter to make a considerable figure upon 
his arrival at the Court of the Princess of Orange: 
the poor courtiers of the King her brother could not 
vie with him in point of equipage and magnificence; 
and these two articles often produce as much success 
in love as real merit. There is no necessity for any 
other example than the present; for though Jermyn 
was brave, and certainly a gentleman, yet he had 
neither brilliant actions nor distinguished rank to set 
him off; and as for his figure, there was nothing ad- 
vantageous in it. He was little: his head was large 
and his legs small; his features were not disagreeable, 
but he was affected in his carriage and behaviour. All 
his wit consisted in expressions learnt by rote, which 
he occasionally employed either in raillery or in love. 
This was the whole foundation of the merit of a man 
so formidable in amours. 

•^Thomas Carew, Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, going to 
light King Charles into her chamber, saw Jermyn, Lord St. 
Albans, with his arm round her neck; he stumbled and put out 
the light; Jermyn escaped; Carew never told the King, and the 
King never knew it. The Queen heaped favours on Carew. She 
quarrelled with Jermyn and tore her will; after reconciliation 
she made another will in his favour ; he brought it to her to sign, 
but she being asleep he deferred it till the next morning, when 
she was found dead of a dose of laudanum she had taken, 1669. 
My authority [says the writer] is old G. Clarke, Esq., formerly 
Lord of the Admiralty and Secretary to Prince George of Den- 
mark" (Hist, MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 244). 

As to the Queen Dowager's will, we learn something further 
from the Verney MSS. W. Denton, writing to Sir Ralph V'erney 
says: *^ September 7, 1669 — The night the Queen Mother died 
she called for her will, said she did not like it, tore off the seals, 
said she would alter it to-morrow. She complained much of 
want of sleep, so an opiate was ordained h'er, and her physician 
who watched with her to give or not give it to her, he did not 
like to give it her, but her impatiency extorted it from him, but 
she died that night" (Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 448) . 

^ Henry Jermyn, first Baron Dover, second son of Thomas 
Jermyn of Rushbrooke Hall, near Bury St. Edmunds, nephew of 
Henry Jermyn, Earl of St. Albans, and younger brother of 



COUNT DE GRAMONT loi 

The Princess Royal was the first who was taken 
with him.'^ Miss Hyde seemed to be following the 
steps of her mistress: this immediately brought him 
into credit, and his reputation was established in Eng- 
land before his arrival. Prepossession in the minds 
of women is sufficient to find access to their hearts; 
Jermyn found them in dispositions so favourable for 
him, that he had nothing to do but to speak. 

It was in vain they perceived that a reputation so 
lightly established was still more weakly sustained : the 
prejudice remained. The Countess of Castlemaine, 
a woman lively and discerning, followed the delusive 
shadow ; and though undeceived in a reputation which 
promised so much, and performed so little, she never- 

Thomas, who succeeded his uncle as second Baron Jermyn in 
1683-4. Attached to the household of the Duke of York prior to 
the Restoration. Charles II.'s sister Mary, the widowed Princess 
of Orange, was on such intimate terms with Jermyn that the 
rumor got abroad that he was secretly married to her as his 
uncle was said to be to her mother. After the Restoration, when 
Master of the Horse to the Duke of York, he became notorious 
for gambling and debauchery. His amorous intrigues are fully 
dealt with in these Memoirs. With the accession of James, he 
was made Lord-Lieutenant of Cambridgeshire, appointed Privy 
Councillor and created Baron Dover, and became one of the 
King's chief Catholic advisers in 1688, when he was entrusted 
with the care of the little Prince of Wales. At the battle of the 
Boyne he also commanded a troop for the ab' cated King, but 
was induced eventually to accept overtures from William IIL, 
to whom he became reconciled about 1692 (vide Evelyn, 7th 
Novemb'er 1692). In 1703 he succeeded his brother Thomas, as 
third Baron Jermyn of Bury St. Edmunds, and died at his country 
house, Cheveley Park, near Newmarket, where Charles II. 
occasionally used to stop during the races (vide King Mon- 
mouth). Ob. 1708. He was buried at Bruges. By his wife, 
Judith Pooley, he had an only daughter, who died young. The 
peerage therefore became extinct. (See Diet, of Nat. Biography, 
vol. xxix. pp. 344-345). 

^ It was suspected of this princess to have had a similar en- 
gagement with the Duke of Buckingham as the Queen with 
Jermyn, and that was the cause she would not see th'e Duke on 
his second voyage to Holland, in the year 1652. 

^ Vide her Memoir in the Appendix. 



I02 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

theless continued in her infatuation ; she even persisted 
in it, until she was upon the point of embroiHng her- 
self with the King; so great was this first instance of 
her constancy. 

Such were the heroes of the Court. As for the 
beauties, you could not look anywhere without seeing 
them : those of the greatest reputation were this same 
Countess of Castlemaine, afterwards Duchess of 
Cleveland, Lady Chesterfield, Lady Shrewsbury,'" Mrs. 
Roberts, Mrs. Middleton/' the Misses Brooke," and a 
thousand others, who also shone at Court with equal 

^^Anna Maria, Countess of Shrewsbury, eldest daughter of 
Robert Brudenel, second Earl of Cardigan, and wife of Francis 
Talbot, eleventh Earl of Shrewsbury, married loth January 
1658-9. The duel in which he was killed by the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, i6th January 1667-8, is mentioned later on in the Memoirs 
(see p. 348). After living for some years as the victor's para- 
mour, the Countess married, secondly, in 1680, George Rodney 
Bridges, Esq. (of Keynsham and Avington), second son of Sir 
Thomas Bridges (vide King Monmouth). A pension of £1600 
granted her by Charles II. was stopped in William III.'s reign 
(see petition of her husband, March 1697, State Papers Dom. 
Petition Book 20). 

By her first husband she had two sons — Charles, afterwards 
created Duke of Shrewsbury (ob. s. p.), and John Talbot, who 
was killed in a duel, 2nd February 1685, by Henry, Duke of Graf- 
ton. By her second husband she left a son George, who died 
without issue in 1751. He was found drowned in the lake at 
Avington Park. The old Jacobean mansion of Avington (Hants), 
which came into the Countess's possession through her second 
marriage, still retains the "old Banqueting Hall" and "Nell 
Gwyn's closet," associated with the pleasure visits of the " Merry 
Monarch." 

The Countess of Shrewsbury died in 1702. Her husband sur- 
vived her eleven years, and was buried in the same grave at St. 
Giles in the Fields. ""See footnote, p. 112. 

^The three Misses Brooke, Hill, Frances, and Margaret,* were 
the daughters of Sir William Brooke (the grandson of William 
Brooke, Lord Cobham), ob. in Cromwell's service, 30th September 
1643. Their mother, Penelope (daughter of Sir Moyses Hill, Kt., 
of Hillsborough, Co. Down), married, secondly, Hon. Edward 
Russell, son of Francis, fourth Earl of Bedford. The Earl of 
Bristol mentioned m the Memoirs as having introduced the 
Misses Brooke to the King (see p. 189) was their stepfather's 
* She is sometimes named Elizabeth in error. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 103 

lustre; but it was Miss Hamilton and Miss Stewart 
who were its chief ornaments. The new Queen gave 
but little additional brilliancy to the Court/^ either in 
her person or in her retinue, which was then composed 

brother-in-law, he having married Lady Anne Russell, the Earl 
of Bedford's sister. 

Hill, the eldest girl, married Sir William Boothby, second Baro- 
net of Ashbourn, Derbyshire; Frances, the second, married Sir 
Thomas Whitmore of Buildwas, Salop, second son of Sir Thomas 
Whitmore of Apley Park, Stockton, Salop. Frances Whitmore, 
the daughter of Lady Whitmore nee Brooke, married twice, her 
second husband being Sir Richard Middleton of Chirk Castle, 
Denbighshire (the nephew of the famous Mrs. Middleton's hus- 
band). She also was a great beauty {vide her full-length portrait 
at Hampton Court). Lady Whitmore married, secondly, Mat- 
thew Harvey of Twickenham (nephew of the great physician), 
where her tomb may be seen bearing the arms of Harvey im- 
paling Brooke. The husband survived her and died in 1690. 
There is no date of the wife's death, 

^ Lord Clarendon confirms, in some measure, this account. 
" There was a numerous family of men and women, that were 
sent from Portugal, the most improper to promote that conform- 
ity in the Queen that was necessary for her condition and future 
happiness that could be chosen; the women, for the most part, 
old and ugly, and proud, incapable of any conversation with 
persons of quality and a liberal education : and they desired, and 
indeed had conspired so far to possess the Queen themselves, that 
she should neither learn the English language nor use their habit, 
nor depart from the manners and fashions of her own country 
in any particulars : which resolution," they told, " would be for 
the_ dignity of Portugal, and would quickly induce the English 
ladies to conform to Her Majesty's practice. And this imagina- 
tion had made that impression, that the tailor who had been sent 
into Portugal to^ make her clothes could never be admitted to 
see her or receive any employment. Nor when she came to 
Portsmouth, and found there several ladies of honour and prime 
quality to attend her in the places to which they were assigned 
by the King, did she receive any of them till the King himself 
carne; nor then with any grace, or the liberty that belonged to 
their places and offices. She could not be persuaded to be dressed 
out of the wardrobe that the King had sent to her, but would 
wear the clothes which she had brought, until she found that 
the King was displeased, and would be obeyed; whereupon she 
conformed, against the advice of her women, who continu'ed their 
opiniatrety, without any one of them receding from their own 
mode, which exposed them the more to reproach " (Continuation 
of Clarendon's Life, p. 168). 



I04 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

of the Countess de Panetra, who came over with her 
in quaHty of lady of the bedchamber; six frights, who 
called themselves maids of honour, and a duenna, an- 
other monster, who took the title of governess to those 
extraordinary beauties."^ 

Among the men were Francisco de Melo, brother to 
the Countess de Panetra ; one Taurauvedez, who called 
himself Don Pedro Francisco Correo de Silva, ex- 
tremely handsome, but a greater fool than all the Por- 
tuguese put together : he was more vain of his names 
than of his person: but the Duke of Buckingham, a 
still greater fool than he, though more addicted to 
raillery, gave him the additional name of Peter of the 
Wood. He was so enraged at this, that after many 
fruitless complaints and ineffectual menaces, poor 
Pedro de Silva was obliged to leave England, while 
the happy Duke kept possession of a Portuguese 
nymph more hideous than the Queen's maids of 
honour, whom he had taken from him, as well as two 
of his names. Besides these, there were six chaplains, 
four bakers, a Jew perfumer, and a certain officer, 
probably without an office, who called himself her 
Highness's barber.'" Catharine of Braganza was far 
from appearing with splendour in the charming Court 
where she came to reign ; however, in the end she was 
pretty success ful.^^ The Chevalier de Gramont, who 

^ These ladies were soon afterwards sent back to Portugal. 

^"A suggestion as to this post is mentioned by Walpole in his 
Strawberry Hill edition of the Memoirs. 

^ " The Queen arrived with a train of Portuguese ladies," says 
Evelyn, 30th May 1662, "in their monstrous fardingals or guard- 
infantas, their complexions olivader and sufficiently unagreeable ; 
Her Majesty in the same habit, her foretop long and turned aside 
very strangely. She was yet of the handsomest countenance of 
all the rest, and though low of stature prettily shaped, languishing 
and excellent eyes, her teeth wronging her mouth by sticking a 
little too far out : for the rest, lovely enough." 

Lord Clarendon says : " The Queen had beauty and wit enough 
to make herself agreeable to him (the King) ; and it is very cer- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 105 

had been long known to the Royal Family, and to 
most of the gentlemen of the Court, had only to get 
acquainted with the ladies ; and for this he wanted no 
interpreter: they all spoke French enough to explain 
themselves, and they all understood it sufficiently to 
comprehend what he had to say to them. 

The Queen's Court was always very numerous; that 
of the Duchess was less so, but more select. This 
princess" had a majestic air, a pretty good shape, not 
much beauty, a great deal of wit, and so just a 
discernment of merit, that, whoever of either sex 
were possessed of it, were sure to be distinguished 
by her. 

tain, that at their first meeting, and for some time after, the King 

had very good satisfaction in her. . . . Though she was of years 
enough to have had more experience of the world, and of as 
much wit as could be wished, and of a humour Very agreeable 
at some seasons, yet she had been bred, according to the mode 
and discipline of her country, in a monastery, where she had 
only seen the women who attended her, and conversed with the 
religious who resided there; and, without doubt, in her inclina- 
tions, was enough disposed to have been one of that number : and 
from this restraint she was called out to be a great Queen, and 
to a free conversation in a Court that was to be upon the matter 
new formed, and reduced from the manners of a licentious age 
to the old rules and limits which had been observed in better 
times; to which regular and decent conformity the present dis- 
position of men or women was not enough inclined to submit, 
nor the King enough disposed to exact" {Continuation of Lord 
Clarendon's Life, p. 167). After some struggle, she submitted to 
the King's licentious conduct, and from that time lived upon easy 
terms with him until his death. On the 30th March 1692 she left 
Somerset House, her usual residence, and retired to Lisbon, 
where she died, 31st December 1705. 

^^ Anne Hyde, Duchess of York. At the age of twelve she ac- 
companied her mother (Frances, daughter of Sir Thomas Ailes- 
bury) and brothers to Antwerp, and five years later was attached 
to the train of the Princess of Orange, Charles H.'s eldest sister. 
" The Duchess," says Bishop Burnet, " was a very extraordinary 
woman. She had great knowledge, and a lively sense of things. 
She soon understood what belonged to a princess, and took 
state on her rather too much. She wrote well, and had begun 
the Duke's life, of which she showed me a volume. It was all 
drawn from his journal; and he intended to have employed me 



io6 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

An air of grandeur in all her actions made her be 
considered as if born to support the rank which placed 
her so near the throne. The Queen Dowager returned 
after the marriage of the Princess Royal,^' and it was 
in her Court that the two others met. 

The Chevalier de Gramont was soon liked by all 
parties: those who had not known him before were 
surprised to see a Frenchman of his disposition. The 
King's restoration having drawn a great number of 
foreigners from all countries to the Court, the French 
were rather in disgrace; for, instead of any persons 
of distinction having appeared among the first who 
came over, they had only seen some insignificant pup- 
pies, each striving to outdo the other in folly and 
extravagance, despising everything which was not like 
themselves, and thinking they introduced the bel air, 
by treating the English as strangers in their own 
country. 

in carrying it on. She was bred in great strictness in religion, 
and practised secret confession. Morley told me he was her con- 
fessor. She began at twelve years old, and continued under his 
direction till, upon her father's disgrace, he was put from the 
Court. She was generous and friendly, but was too severe an 
enemy" (History of his Own Time, vol. i. p. 237). She died 31st 
March 1671, having adopted the Roman Catholic faith three years 
previously. 

®^ Queen Henrietta Maria arrived at Whitehall 2nd November 
1660, after nineteen years' absence. She was received with ac- 
clamations; and bonfires were lighted on the occasion, both in 
London and Westminster. She returned to France with her 
daughter, the Princess Henrietta, 2nd January 1660-1. She ar- 
rived again at Greenwich 28th July 1662, and continued to keep 
her Court in England until July 1665, when she embarked for 
France, " and took so many things with her," says Lord Claren- 
don, "that it was thought by many that she did not intend ever 
to return into England. Whatever her intentions at that time 
were, she never did see England again, though she lived many 
years after" {Continuation of Clarendon's Life, p. ^z)- She 
died at Colombe, near Paris, in August 1669; and her son, the 
Duke of York, pronounces this feulogium on her: "She excelled 
in all the good qualities of a good wife, of a good mother, and 
a good Christian" (Macpherson's Original Papers, vol. i.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 107 

The Chevalier de Gramont, on the contrary, was 
famihar with everybody : he gave in to their customs, 
ate of everything, and easily habituated himself to 
their manner of living", which he looked upon as 
neither vulgar nor barbarous ; and as he showed a nat- 
ural complaisance, instead of the impertinent affecta- 
tion of the others, all the nation was charmed with 
a man who agreeably indemnified them for what they 
had suffered from the folly of the former. 

He first of all made his court to the King, and 
was of all his parties of pleasure.'* He played high, 
and lost but seldom. He found so little difference 
in the manners and conversation of those with whom 
he chiefly associated, that he could scarcely believe 
he was out of his own country. Everything which 
could agreeably engage a man of his disposition pre- 
sented itself to his different humours, as if the pleas- 
ures of the Court of France had quitted it to accom- 
pany him in his exile. 

He was every day engaged for some entertainment; 
and those who wished to regale him in their turn 
were obliged to take their measures in time, and to 
invite him eight or ten days beforehand. These im- 
portunate civilities became tiresome in the long run; 
but as they seemed indispensable to a man of his dis- 
position, and as they were the most genteel people of 
the Court who loaded him with them, he submitted 
with a good grace; but always reserved to himself 
the liberty of supping at home. 

His supper hour depended upon play, and was in- 
deed very uncertain ; but his supper was always served 
up with the greatest elegance, by the assistance of 
one or two servants, who were excellent caterers 

'* " He makes one in all the oarties of the King, and has his say 
at ICadame de Castlemaine's. — Comminges to King Louis, Au- 
gust 1663 (Jusserand's Ambassador at the Court of Charles, 
p. 93). 



io8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

and good attendants, but understood cheating still 
better. 

The company, at these little entertainments, was 
not numerous, but select : the first people of the Court 
were commonly o£ the party; but the man, who of 
all others suited him best on these occasions, never 
failed to attend : that was the celebrated Saint-Evre- 
mond, who with great exactness, but too great free- 
dom, had written the history of the treaty of the 
Pyrenees : an exile like himself, though for very differ- 
ent reasons. 

Happily for them both, fortune had, some time 
before the arrival of the Chevalier de Gramont, 
brought Saint-Evremond^ to England, after he had 
had leisure to repent in Holland of the beauties of 
his famous satire. 

^ Charles de St. l>enis, Seigneur de Saint-Evremond, was bom 
at St. Denis le Guast, in Lower Normandy, on the ist of April 
1613. He was educated at Paris, with a view to the profession 
cf the law; but he early quitted that pursuit, and went into the 
army, where he signalised himself on several occasions. At the 
time of the Pyrenean treaty, he wrote a letter censuring the con- 
duct of Cardinal Mazarin, which occasioned his being banished 
France. He first took refuge in Holland ; but in 1662 he removed 
into England,^ where he continued, with a short interval, during 
the^ rest of his life. In 1675 the Duchess of Mazarin came to 
reside in England; and with her Saint-Evremond passed much 
of his time. He preserved his health and cheerfulness to a very 
great age, and died pth of September 1703, and was buried in 
Westminster Abbey. His biographer. Monsieur Des Maizeaux, 
describes him thus : " M. de Saint-Evremond had blue, lively, and 
sparkling eyes, a large forehead, thick eyebrows, a handsome 
mouth, and a snefering physiognomy. Twenty years before his 
death a wen grew between his eyebrows, which in time increased 
to a considerable bigness. He once designed to have it cut off, 
but as^ it was no ways troublesome to him, and he little regarded 
that kind of deformity, Dr. Le Fevre advised him to let it alone, 
lest such an operation should be attended with dangerous symp- 
toms in a man of his age. He would often make merry with 
himself on account of his wen, his great leather cap, and grey 
hair, which he chose to wear rather than a periwig." The 
philosopher's character, as drawn by himself, is to be found in 
a letter to Gramont in Saint-Evremond's Works, 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 109 

The Chevalier was from that time his hero: they 
had each of them attained to all the advantages which 
a knowledge of the world, and the society of people of 
fashion, could add to the improvement of good natural 
talents. Saint-Evremond, less engaged in frivolous 
pursuits, frequently gave little lectures to the Chev- 
alier, and by making observations upon the past, en- 
deavoured to set him right for the present, or to 
instruct him for the future. **You are now," said he, 
"in the most agreeable way of life a man of your 
temper could wish for : you are the delight of a youth- 
ful, sprightly, and gallant court: the King has never 
a party of pleasure to which you are not admitted. 
You play from morning to night, or, to speak more 
properly, from night to morning, without knowing 
what it is to lose. Far from losing the money yju 
brought hither, as you have done in other places, you 
have doubled it, trebled it, multiplied it almost beyond 
your wishes, notwithstanding the exorbitant expenses 
you are imperceptibly led into. This, without doubt, 
is the most desirable situation in the world : stop here, 
Chevalier, and do not ruin your affairs by returning 
to your old sins. Avoid love, by pursuing other pleas- 
ures : love has never been favourable to you. You are 
sensible how much gallantry has cost you: every 
person here is not so well acquainted with that matter 
as yourself. Play boldly: entertain the Court with 
your wit: divert the King by your ingenious and 
entertaining stories; but avoid all engagements which 
can deprive you of this merit, and make you forget 
you are a stranger and an exile in this delightful 
country. 

"Fortune may grow weary of befriending you at 
play. What would have become of you if your last 
misfortune had happened to you when your money 
had been at as low an ebb as I have known it? At- 



no THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

tend carefully then to this necessary deity, and re- 
nounce the other. You will be missed at the Court 
of France before you grow weary of this; but be 
that as it may, lay up a good store of money : when a 
man is rich he consoles himself for his banishment. 
I know you well^ my dear Chevalier: if you take it 
into your head to seduce a lady, or to supplant a lover, 
your gains at play will by no means suffice for pres- 
ents and for bribes: no, let play be as productive to 
you as it can be^ you will never gain so much by it as 
you will lose by love, if you yield to it. 

'*You are in possession of a thousand splendid 
qualifications which distinguish you here: generous, 
benevolent, elegant, and polite ; and for your engaging 
wit, inimitable. Upon a strict examination, perhaps, 
all this would not be found literally true; but these 
are brilliant marks; and since it is granted that you 
possess them, do not show yourself here in any other 
light: for, in love, if your manner of paying your 
addresses can be so denominated, you do not in the 
least resemble the picture I have just now drawn." 

"My little philosophical monitor," said the Chev- 
alier de Gramont, "you talk here as if you were the 
Cato of Normandy." "Do I say anything untrue?" 
replied Saint-Evremond : "is it not a fact, that as 
soon as a woman pleases you, your first care is to find 
out whether she has any other lover, and your second 
how to plague her; for the gaining her affection is 
the last thing in your thoughts. You seldom engage 
in intrigues, but to disturb the happiness of others : a 
mistress who had no lovers would have no charms for 
you, and if she had, she would be invaluable. Do not 
all the places through which you have passed furnish 
me with a thousand examples? Shall I mention your 
coup d'essai at Turin? the trick you played at Fon- 
tainebleau, where you robbed the Princess Palatine's 



COUNT DE GRAMONT iii 

courier upon the highway? And for what purpose 
was this fine exploit, but to put you in possession 
of some proofs of her affection for another, in order 
to give her uneasiness and confusion by reproaches 
and menaces, which you had no right to use? 

"Who but yourself ever took it into his head to 
place himself in ambush upon the stairs, to disturb a 
man in an intrigue, and to pull him back by the leg 
when he was half way up to his mistress's chamber? 
Yet did not you use your friend, the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, in this manner, when he was stealing at night 

to , although you were not in the least his rival ? 

How many spies did not you send out after 
D'Olonne?'" How many tricks, frauds, and persecu- 
tions did you not practise for the Countess de Fiesque, 
who perhaps might have been constant to you, if you 
had not yourself forced her to be otherwise? But, to 
conclude, for the enumeration of your iniquities would 
be endless, give me leave to ask you how you came 
here? Are not we obliged to that same evil genius 
of yours, which rashly inspired you to intermeddle 
even in the gallantries of your prince? Show some 
discretion then on this point here, I beseech you; all 
the beauties of the Court are already engaged; and 
however docile the English may be with respect to 
their wives, they can by no means bear the incon- 
stancy of their mistresses, nor patiently suffer the 
advantages of a rival: suffer them therefore to re- 
main in tranquillity, and do not gain their ill-will for 
no purpose. 

^'Mademoiselle de la Loupe, who is mentioned in De Retz's 
Memoirs, vol. iii. p. 95. She married the Count d'Olonne, and 
became famous for her gallantries. Her maiden name was 
Catherine Henrietta d'Angennes, and she was daughter to Charles 
d'Angennes, Lord of la Loupe, Baron d'Amberville, by Mary du 
Raynier. There is a long character of her by Saint-Evremond, 
in his works, vol. i. p. 17; vol. ii. p. 24. See also Histoire 
Amoureu^e des Gaules. 



112 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

"You certainly will meet with no success with such 
as are unmarried : honourable views, and good landed 
property, are required here ; and you possess as much" 
of the one as the other. Every country has its cus- 
toms: in Holland, unmarried ladies are of easy ac- 
cess, and of tender dispositions; but as soon as they 
are married, they become like so many Lucretias: in 
France, the women are great coquettes before mar- 
riage, and gtill more so afterwards; but here it is a 
miracle if a young lady yields to any proposal but 
that of matrimony: and I do not believe you yet so 
destitute of grace as to think of that." 

Such were Saint-Evremond's lectures; but they 
were all to no purpose: the Chevalier de Gramont 
only attended to them for his amusement ; and though 
he was sensible of the truth they contained, he paid 
little regard to them: in fact, being weary of the 
favours of fortune, he had just resolved to pursue 
those of love. 

Mrs. Middleton" was the first whom he attacked: 
she was one of the handsomest women in town, though 
then little known at Court: so much of the coquette 

'^ Should be little (Vizetelly's translation). 

^Mrs. Middleton, nee Jane Needham, was the daughter of Sir 
Robert Needham and his second wife Jane, the widow of Mr. 
Worfield.^ She was born at Lambeth, where her father resided, 
and baptized 23rd January 1645-6. The great beauty married, 
i8th June 1660 (at Lambeth), Charles Middleton, Esq. (born 
1635), son of Sir Thomas Middleton, Kt, of Chirk Castle, Den- 
bighshire. The old mansion, Plas Newydd, was rebuilt by Mr. 
Middleton, whose arms are still to be seen over the porch. There 
were two daughters by this marriage: Jane, baptized 21st De- 
cember 1661, and Althamia. The family resided for a ^ time, 
1668-9, in Charles Street, St. Martin's in the Fields: the site of 
the house is now occupied by part of Regent Street Mrs. Mid- 
dleton for some years received a pension of £500 from the Privy 
Purse, and died in 1692 and was buried in Lambeth Church or 
Churchyard, but no stone records her interment. 

Both Evelyn and the French Ambassador Courtin describe 
Mrs. Middleton as an incomparable beauty. The latter says (23rd 
November 1676) ; " I still hold to the opinion that she's the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 113 

as to discourage no one; and so great was her desire 
of appearing magnificently, that she was ambitious to 
vie with those of the greatest fortunes, though unable 
to support the expense. All this suited the Chevalier 
de Gramont; therefore, without trifling away his time 
in useless ceremonies, he applied to her porter for 
admittance, and chose one of her lovers for his 
confidant. 

This lover, who was not deficient in wit, was at 
that time a Mr. Jones, afterwards Earl of Ranelagh.^* 
What engaged him to serve the Chevalier de Gramont 
was to traverse the designs of a most dangerous rival, 
and to relieve himself from an expense which began 
to lie too heavy upon him. In both respects the 
Chevalier answered his purpose. 

Immediately spies were placed, letters and presents 
flew about: he was received as well as he could wish: 

sweetest woman I ever came across in any foreign country. 
She's beautiful, has the air of high breeding, is full of talent, 
and yet modest and unassuming." It appears from the French 
despatches (Barillon to Pomponne, 25th July 1678), that "to 
outdo the Duchess of Portsmouth, Mrs. Middleton and Lady 
Harvey trust to get the King to honour Mrs. Middleton's daugh- 
ter with his attentions." The Duchess of Portsmouth, however, 
caused the King's cabinet to be inaccessible, for the mother took 
her daughter there " intent on pleasing His Majesty " ! (Louise 
de Keroualle, p. 202). This was possibly Jane, mentioned above, 
who married Charles May, Esq., of Frant, Suss'ex, only son of 
Sir Algernon May, Kt., of Hampton, Middlesex. ^ She was left a 
widow in 1715, and died in 1740 and was buried at Hampton 
Church, 

(The above is mainly extracted from Steinman's Althorp 
Memoirs.) 

^^ Richard, first Earl of Ranelagh, was member of the English 
House of Commons, and Vice Treasurer of Ireland 1674. He 
held several offices under King William and Queen Anne, and 
died 5th January 171 1. Bishop Burnet says : " Lord Ranelagh was 
a young man of great parts, and as great vices : he had a pleas- 
antness in his conversation that took much with the King; and 
had a great dexterity in business" {History of his Own Time, 
vol. i. p. Z7^)' His daughter Elizabeth became the King's mis- 
tress in 1679 {vide Reresby's Memoirs), 



114 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

he was permitted to ogle: he was even ogled again: 
but this was all: he found that the fair one was very 
willing to accept, but was tardy in making returns.*' 
This induced him, without giving up his pretensions 
to her, to seek his fortune elsewhere. 

Among the Queen's maids of honour there was one 
called Warmester: she was a beauty very different 
from the other. Mrs. Middleton was well made, fair, 
and delicate; but had in her behaviour and discourse 
something precise and affected. The indolent, lan- 
guishing airs she gave herself did not please every- 
body: people grew weary of those sentiments of deli- 
cacy, which she endeavoured to explain without un- 
derstanding them herself, and instead of entertaining 
she became tiresome. In these attempts she gave 
herself so much trouble, that she made the company 
uneasy, and her ambition to pass for a wit only estab- 
lished her the reputation of being wearisome, which 
lasted much longer than her beauty. 

Miss • Warmester*' was brown*^ : she had no shape 

*° The French Ambassador, Courtin, gives another story : " Mrs. 
Middleton is not at all mercenary ; she once refused a purse con- 
taining fifteen hundred golden angels which Gramont offered 
her" (see Forneron's Louise de Keroualle, p. 156). 

*^Miss Warmester, or Warmestry, is referred to in Gramont's 
Memoirs under her real name, and not, as the previous annotators 
have it, under an assumed one. Similar circumstances in the 
career of the maid of honour Mary Kirke led the Earl of Arran 
to suppose that Warmester must have been a fictitious name; 
but such was not the case. This lady is referred to in a letter 
from Lord Cornbury to the Duchess of Bedford (loth June 1662) 
under her correct name, as maid of honour to Queen Catherine. 
Mary Kirke was maid of honour to the Duchess of York, but 
she did not resign her position until 1675, six years after Gra- 
mont's departure from England: whereas the Miss Warmester 
ep^'sode took place during his sojourn at the Court. The 
Warmestrys s'ettled in Worcester prior to the reign of Edward 
VI., from which the members were registrars of the diocese, and 
the name is still retained in a narrow street leading from the 
Cathedral to the river Severn. The parentage of the lady of the 
Memoirs is not known, but it is not unlikely she was the daugh- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 115 

at all, and still less air; but she had a very lively 
complexion, very sparkling eyes, tempting looks, 
which spared nothing that might engage a lover, 
and promised everything which could preserve him. 
In the end, it very plainly appeared that her con- 
sent went along with her eyes to the last degree of 
indiscretion. 

It was between these two goddesses that the inclina- 
tions of the Chevalier de Gramont stood wavering, 
and between whom his presents were divided. Per- 
fumed gloves, pocket looking-glasses, elegant boxes, 
apricot paste, essences, and other small wares of love, 
arrived every week from Paris, with some new suit 
for himself: but, with regard to more solid presents, 
such as ear-rings, diamonds, brilliants, and bright 
guineas, all these were to be met with of the 
best sort in London, and the ladies were as well 
pleased with them as if they had been brought from 
abroad. 

ter of Dr. Thomas Warmestry, Vicar of Bromsgrove and Dean of 
Worcester, a staunch royalist (b. 1610), who had lands at Pax- 
ford, County Worcester, lived prior to the Restoration at Chelsea, 
and was granted the mastership of the Savoy in June 1660. He 
died 30th October 1665, and was buried in the Cathedral of Wor- 
cester (see Diet, of Nat. Biography, vol. lix. p. 389, also Notes 
and Queries, Series i. vol. viii. p. 461, and the M.S. additions of 
Sir William Musgrave in a copy of the Gramont Memoirs in the 
British Museum). 

Mary Kirke (the daughter of George Kirke, Groom of the 
Bedchamber to Charles II. and Keeper of Whitehall Palace, and 
sister to Colonel Percy Kirke of execrable fame) is mentioned 
in the Belvoir MSS. as being a mistress of the Duke of Mon- 
mouth (vide King Monmouth, p. 47) ; in any case she ultimately 
married Sir Thomas Vernon, who became a widower in June 1676, 
and who has hitherto been confused with Killigrew's cousin, who 
came most opportunely to the rescue of Miss Warmester. Lady 
Vernon survived her husband nearly thirty years, and died in 
great poverty at Greenwich, where she was buried. Her son, Sir 
Richard, was the last baronet, and the family became extinct in 
1752. 

*^Dark, not brown (Vizetelly's translation). 



ii6 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Miss Stewart's** beauty began at this time to be 
celebrated. The Countess of Castlemaine perceived 
that the King paid attention to her; but, instead of 
being alarmed at it, she favoured, as far as she was 
able, this new inclination, whether from an indiscre- 
tion common to all those who think themselves supe- 
rior to the rest of mankind, or whether she designed, 
by this pastime, to divert the King's attention from 
the commerce which she held with Jermyn. She was 
not satisfied with appearing without any degree of 
uneasiness at a preference which all the Court began 

^Frances Theresa Stewart, or Stuart, afterwards Duchess of 
Richmond and Lennox, daughter of Walter Stuart, third son of 
Walter, Lord Blantyre, which family claimed to be related to the 
Royal Hous'e of Stuart. Born about the year 1647, and educated 
in France, she was in the train of Queen Henrietta when the 
Dowager came to England two years after the Restoration, 
shortly after which she became maid of honour to Que'en Cather- 
ine of Braganza. Charles II., as had King Louis before him, 
soon became enslaved by her beauty, which resulted in a rivalry 
between her and Lady Castlemaine; and had the Queen's illness 
proved fatal, there is little doubt the King would have married 
her, for in vain he had solicited her favours. 

There are frequent allusions to her by Pepys, who describes 
her as the greatest beauty at Court, with her "sweet eye, little 
Roman nose, and excellent taille." The well-known Hampton 
Court portrait by Lely is probably referred to in the following 
entry in the Diary of 15th July 1664: — "To Whitehall, where^ 
in one of the Galleries — there comes out of the Chayre-room Mrs. 
Stewart in a most lovely form, with her hair all about her eares, 
having her picture taken there. There was the King and twenty 
more, I think, standing by all the while, and a lovely creature she, 
in this dress, seemed to be." On 26th August of the same year 
Pepys was taken to Huysman's studio, where he saw his portrait 
of Frances Stewart "in a buff doublet like a soldier." This 
painting is now in Buckingham Palace. John Roettier, the medal- 
list, depicted La Belle Stewart's profile upon the reverse of a thin 
gold plate now in the British Museum. Referring to this, Pepys 
says (25th February 1666-y) : — '' At my goldsmith's did observe 
the King's new medall where, in little, there is Mrs. Steward's 
face as well done as ever I saw anything in my whole life, I 
think: and a pretty thing it is, that he should choose her face 
to represent Britannia by." She also sat for the Britannia of 
several medals struck in the year 1667, the original of the Britan- 
nia of our copper coinage. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 117 

to remark: she even affected to make Miss Stewart 
her favourite, invited her to all the entertainments 
she made for the King; and in confidence of her own 
charms, with the greatest indiscretion she often kept 
her to sleep. 

The King, who seldom neglected to visit the 
Countess before she rose, seldom failed likewise to 
find Miss Stewart in bed with her. The most in- 
different objects have charms in a new attachment: 
however, the imprudent Countess was not jealous of 
this rival's appearing with her in such a situation, 
being confident, that whenever she thought fit, she 
could triumph over all the advantages which these 
opportunities could afford Miss Stewart. But she was 
quite mistaken. 

The Chevalier de Gramont took notice of this con- 
duct, without being able to comprehend it ; but, as he 
was attentive to the inclinations of the King, he began 
to make his court to him by enhancing the merit of 
this new mistress.** 

Her figure was more showy than engaging: it 

was hardly possible for a woman to have less wit, 

or more beauty. All her features were fine and 

regular; but her shape was not good: yet she was 

slender, straight enough, and taller than the generality 

^Between February and June 1663 several rumours were cur- 
rent that Frances Stewart had become the King's mistress (vide 
Pepy's Diary, 8th and 17th February, i8th May, and 4th June). 
The Marquis de Ruvigny, writing to Louis XIV. on 25th June, 
hints at her sins by saying that she did not take the communion 
at Whitsuntide, though, he adds, she is " one of the most modest 
girls to be seen." By this time Lady Castlemaine saw the danger 
of entertaining her rival. " There was a great row the other day 
among the ladies," says the Ambassador Comminges in a letter 
to^ King Louis (2Sth June 1663) ; " it was carried so far that the 
King threatened the lady at whose apartments he sups every 
evening that he would never set foot there again if he did not 
find the Demoiselle with her, and for this cause the lady is never 
without her" (see Jusserand's French Ambassador at the Court 
of Charles II. p. 90). 



ii8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

of women : she was very graceful, danced well,** and 
spoke French better than her mother tongue : she was 
well bred, and possessed in perfection that air of dress 
which is so much admired, and which cannot be 
attained, unless it be taken when young, in France. 
While her charms were gaining ground in the King's 
heart, the Countess of Castlemaine amused herself in 
the gratification of all her caprices.*^ 

Mrs. Hyde*^ was one of the first of the beauties 
who were prejudiced with a blind prepossession in 
favour of Jermyn : she had just married a man whom 
she loved : by this marriage she became sister-in-law 
to the Duchess, brilliant by her own native lustre, 
and full of pleasantry and wit. However, she was of 
opinion, that so long as she was not talked of on 
account of Jermyn, all her other advantages would 
avail nothing for her glory : it was, therefore, to re- 
ceive this finishing stroke that she resolved to throw 
herself into his arms. 

She was of middle size, had a skin of a dazzling 
whiteness, fine hands, and a foot surprisingly beauti- 
ful, even in England : long custom had given such a 
languishing tenderness to her looks, that she never 
opened her eyes but like a Chinese; and, when she 
ogled, one would have thought she was doing some- 
thing else. 

Jermyn accepted of her at first; but, being soon 
puzzled what to do with her, he thought it best to 

*^ " Mighty finely," according to Pepys, who, on the occasion of 
a Court ball, thought her "the beautifullest creature" he 'ever 
saw (see Diary, 15th November 1666). 

**This is corroborated by Pepys (see Diary, 8th February 
1662-3). 

*^Theodosia, daughter of Arthur, Lord Capel, first wife of 
Henry Hyde, Lord Cornbury, and sister-in-law of the Duchess 
of York. 

She must not be confused with the wife of Laurence Hyde, 
afterwards Earl of Rochester. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 119 

sacrifice her to Lady Castlemaine. The sacrifice was 
far from being displeasing- to her; it was much to 
her glory to have carried off Jermyn from so many 
competitors; but this was of no consequence in the 
end. 

Jacob Hall, the famous rope-dancer,** was at that 
time in vogue in London; his strength and agility 
charmed in public, even to a wish to know what he 
was in private ; for he appeared, in his tumbling dress, 
to be quite of a different make, and to have limbs 
very different from the fortunate Jermyn. The tum- 
bler did not deceive Lady Castlemaine's expectations, 
if report may be believed, and as was intimated in 
many a song, much more to the honour of the 
rope-dancer than of the Countess; but she despised 
all these rumours, and only appeared still more 
handsome. 

While satire thus found employment at her cost, 
there w^ere continual contests for the favours of an- 
other beauty, who was not much more niggardly in 
that way than herself; this was the Countess of 
Shrewsbury. 

**The combination of Hercules and Adonis in the person of 
Jacob Hall made him very popular with the fair sex. He attained 
his greatest distinction in 1668 when he became a regular visitor 
to Lady Castlemaine's house, and is said to have received a salary 
from her. Hall's earliest entertainm'ent was in a booth at Smith- 
field, after which he set up a stage for his performances at Char- 
ing Cross, and in Lincoln's Inn Fields. His exhibition included 
*' excellent dancing and vaulting on the ropes with variety of 
rare feats of activity and agility of body upon the stage, as doing 
of somersets and flip-flaps, flying over thirty rapiers, and over 
several men's heads, and also flying through several hoops." He 
further challenged anybody to do the like for £20. (See Notes 
and Queries, Second Series, vii. p. 62.) Pepys, who saw him in 
August and September 1668, at Southwark Fair, describes him as 
a " mighty strong man." In an interview with the diarist, the 
athlete declared that though he had had many falls he had never 
broken a limb (21st September). See also Diet, of Nat. Biog- 
raphy, vol. xxiv. p. 67. 



I20 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

The Earl of Arran/* who had been one of her first i 

admirers, was not one of the last to desert her; this 
beauty, less famous for her conquests than for the mis- 
fortunes she occasioned, placed her greatest merits in 
being more capricious than any other. As no person 
could boast of being the only one in her favour, so no 
person could complain of having been ill received. 

Jermyn was displeased that she had made no ad- 
vances to him, without considering that she had no 
leisure for it ; his pride was offended ; but the attempt 
which he made to take her from the rest of her lovers 
was very ill-advised. 

Thomas Howard, brother to the Earl of Carlisle,'" 
was one of them : there was not a braver or finer man 
in England; and though he was of a modest de- 
meanour, and his manners appeared gentle and pacific, 
no person was more spirited nor more passionate. 
Lady Shrewsbury, inconsiderately returning the first 
ogles of the invincible Jermyn, did not at all make 
herself more agreeable to Howard; that, however, 
she paid little attention to ; yet, as she designed to keep 
fair with him, she consented to accept an entertain- 
ment which he had often proposed, and which she 
durst no longer refuse. A place of amusement called 
Spring Garden'^ was fixed upon for the scene of this 
entertainment. 

*^ Richard Butler, second son of James, Duke of Ormonde, b, 
1639, ob. 1686. 

^° Captain Thomas Howard, fourth son of Sir William Howard, 
and the third husband of Mary Villiers, daughter of the first 
Duke of Buckingham, whose second husband was James Lennox, 
third Duke of Richmond. 

^^ Spring Garden, the scene of intrigue in many comedies of this 
time, derived its name from a mechanical spring or jet of water, 
a practical joke so contrived that a passer-by was doused as in- 
advertently he trod upon a hidden trap. These water springs 
date from Elizabeth's time : an example existed until a compara- 
, tively recent date at Chatsworth; another was at Enstone in 
Oxfordshire. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 121 

As soon as the party was settled, Jermyn was pri- 
vately informed of it. Howard had a company in the 
regiment of guards, and one of the soldiers of his 
company played pretty well on the bagpipes. This 
soldier was, therefore, at the entertainment. Jermyn 
was at the garden, as by chance, and, puffed up with 
his former successes, he trusted to his victorious air 
for accomplishing this last enterprise; he no sooner 
appeared on the walks, than her ladyship showed her- 
self upon the balcony. 

I know not how she stood affected to her heroj but 
Howard did not fancy him much. This did not pre- 
vent his coming upstairs upon the first sign she made 

In A Character of England, published in 1659 and attributed 
to Evelyn, is the following description : — ** The manner is, as the 
company returns [from Hyde Park], to alight at the Spring Gar- 
den, so called in order to the Parke, as our Thuilleries is to the 
Course; the inclosure not disagreeable, for the solemness of thie 
grove, the warbling of the birds, and as it opens into the spacious 
walks of St. James's; but the company walk in it at such a rate, 
you would think that all the ladies were so many Atalantas con- 
tending with their wooers; but as fast as they ran they stay 
there so long as if they wanted not time to finish the race; for 
it is usual here to find some of the young company till midnight; 
and the thickets of the garden seem to be contrived to all ad- 
vantages of gallantry, after they have refreshed with the colla- 
tion, which is here seldom omitted, at a certain cabaret in the 
middle of this paradise, where the forbidden fruits are certain 
trifling tarts, neats* tongues, salacious meats, and bad Rhenish, 
for which the gallants pay sauce, as indeed they do at all such 
houses throughout England." 

In 1 661 the New Spring Gardens at Foxhall, or Vauxhall, were 
set out with lawns, gravel walks, arbours, and hedges of goose- 
berry trees and roses, and were the forerunner of the famous 
Vauxhall Gardens. Pepys makes several allusions to this pleasure 
resort. "It is very pleasant and cheap going thither,'* says the 
diarist ; " for a man may go to spend what he will or nothing, 
all as one. But to hear the nightingale and the birds, and here 
fiddles and there a harp, and here a Jew's trump, and here laugh- 
ing and there fine people walking. Is mighty divertising" (28th May 
1667). But he was evidently grieved to see how the women were 
molested, and " how rude some of the young gallants of the town 
are become, to go into people's arbors where there are not men, 
and almost force the women." 



122 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

to him ; and not content with acting the petty tyrant, at 
an entertainment not made for himself, no sooner had 
he gained the soft looks of the fair one, than he ex- 
hausted all his commonplace, and all his stock of low 
irony, in railing at the entertainment, and ridiculing 
the music. 

Howard possessed but little raillery, and still less 
patience; three times was the banquet on the point of 
being stained with blood; but three times did he sup- 
press his natural impetuosity, in order to satisfy his 
resentment elsewhere with greater freedom. 

Jermyn, without paying the least attention to his 
ill-humour, pursued his point, continued talking to 
Lady Shrewsbury, and did not leave her until the 
repast was ended. 

He went to bed, proud of this triumph, and was 
awakened next morning by a challenge. He took for 
his second Giles Rawlings," a man of intrigue and a 
deep player. Howard took Dillon,'" who was dexter- 
ous and brave, much of a gentleman, and, unfortu- 
nately, an intimate friend to Rawlings. 

In this duel fortune did not side with the votaries 
of love: poor Rawlings was left stone dead; and 
Jermyn, having received three wounds, was carried 
to his uncle's, with very little signs of life.** 

''Colonel Giles Rawlings, gentleman of the Privy Purse to 
James, Duke of York. According to Rugge's Diurnal he used to 
live in great state, with six horses and three footmen to his 
coach. 

" Colonel Cary Dillon, youngest son of Robert, second Earl of 
Roscommon. 

" This took place in Pall Mall on i8th August 1662 (vide Pepys, 
19th August 1662). A more detailed account appears in the 
Verney papers, 21st August 1662. "On Monday Tom Howard, 
brother to the Earl of Carlisle, and Mr. Dillon; brother to Lord 
Dillon, accosted H. Gcrmaine [Jermyn] and Giles Rawlins, drew 

upon them before door coming from the tennis court, and 

Tom slew Giles dead in the place, and after that fell on Harry 
and wounded him in three or four places, which proved but slight 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 123 

While the report of this event engaged the courtiers 
according to their several interests, the Chevalier de 
Gramont was informed by Jones, his friend, his con- 
fidant, and his rival, that there v^as another gentleman 
very attentive to Mrs. Middleton. This was Mon- 
tagu," no very dangerous rival on account of his per- 
son, but very much to be feared for his assiduity, the 
acuteness of his wit, and for some other talents which 
are of importance, when a man is once permitted to 
display them. 

There needed not half so much to bring into action 
all the Chevalier's vivacity, in point of competition: 
vexation awakened in him whatever expedients the 
desire of revenge, malice, and experience could sug- 
gest, for troubling the designs of a rival, and torment- 
ing a mistress. His first intention was to return her 
letters, and demand his presents, before he began to 
tease her; but, rejecting this project, as too weak a 

hurts ; which done Tom said, * Now we have done justice, let's be 
gone.' And having their horses hard by, with pistols at the sad- 
dlebow, they presently fled, and 'tis thought Howard had some 
hurt, for he was seen to bear himself up on his pummell. The 
quarrel it's said was between Howard and Germaine about Lady 
Shrewsbury. It is also said that Howard was in buff, and that 
he cut off the heels of his boots, and so came fully prepared 
and took the other unawar'^s, who becaus'e they had only the 
usual bodkins desired but their footmen's swords, but had them 
not; and yet Rawlins thrust so home that he bent his sword at 
the hilt, but buff or other armour would not suffer entrance. 
Dillon fought carelessly, as if willing neither to hurt nor be hurt, 
it being none of his quarrel." By Pepys's account it was Dillon 
who had protected himself against sword thrusts. From Rugge's 
Diurnal we learn that Howard and Dillon both fled, "but after 
a quarter of a year they came into England and were acquitted 
by law." 

^^ Ralph Montagu, second son of Edward, second Lord Montagu 
of Boughton (b. 1636, ob. 1709), created Duke of Montagu by 
Queen Anne in 1705. In 1669 he was sent as Ambassador Ex- 
traordinary to France, and aided Louis XIV.'s interests, and 
afterwards was active in opposing King James in favour of Wil- 
liam III. He married the widowed Countess of Northumberland, 
sister of Lady Rachael Russell. 



124 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

revenge for the injustice done him, he was upon 
the point of conspiring the destruction of poor Mrs. 
Middleton, when, by accident, he met with Miss 
Hamilton/^ 

From this moment ended all his resentment against 
Mrs. Middleton and all his attachment to Miss 
Warmester: no longer was he inconstant; no longer 
were his wishes fluctuating; this object fixed them all; 
and, of all his former habits, none remained, except 
uneasiness and jealousy. 

Here his first care was to please; but he very 
plainly saw, that to succeed he must act quite in 
a different manner from that which he had been 
accustomed to. 

The family of the Hamiltons, being very numerous, 
lived in a large and commodious house near the Court ; 
the Duke of Ormonde's family was continually with 
them; and here persons of the greatest distinction in 
London constantly met. The Chevalier de Gramont 
was here received in a manner agreeable to his merit 
and quality, and was astonished that he had spent so 
much time in other places; for, after having made this 
acquaintance, he was desirous of no other. 

^" The Ambassador Comminges, who handles the Chevalier less 
leniently than Hamilton, writes to King Louis (August 1663) :— 
"He" (Gramont) "follows his usual style of life. He sees the 
ladies at the lawful hours, and a little also at the forbidden ones. 
. . . He continues his gallantries as is his wont — that is, making 
much noise and little progress." With regard to Mrs. Middleton 
he says: "He has just managed to have a Very ridiculous affair 
with Madame Middleton, whose maid he bribed, but the maid kept 
to herself both the money and the love declarations of the Chev- 
alier. When at length the lady heard of what was meant for 
her, as it was not conveyed, it seems, with all the eloquence 
Gramont had meant, she was nothing moved, but ordered him to 
keep quiet and look elsewhere. Gramont did not fail to take^ her 
at her word, and he is now, six months after his coming, in a 
fair way to marriage " ( Jusserand's Ambassador at the Court of 
Charles II. pp. 93-94) . 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 125 

All the world agreed that Miss Hamilton" was 
worthy of the most ardent and sincere affection: no- 
body could boast a nobler birth, nothing was more 
charming than her person. 

^^ Elizabeth, sister of the author of these Memoirs, and daugh- 
ter of Sir George Hamilton, fourth son of James, the jfirst Earl 
of Abercorn, by Mary, third daughter of Thomas, Viscount 
Thurles, eldest son of Walter, eleventh Earl of Ormonde, and 
sister to James, the first Duke of Ormonde. She married Phili- 
bert, Count of Gramont, the hero of these Memoirs, by whom 
she had a son, born in 1664 (who probably died young), and 
two daughters, Claude Charlotte, married (1694) to Henry, Earl 
of Stafford, and Mary Elizabeth, who became Abbess of St. 
Marie de Poussay in Lorraine. Dangeau describes her as "a 
most lively wit, the most extensive information, the greatest 
dignity, the utmost ease, and the most polished elegance at Court 
(Dangeau's Journal, vol. i. p. 241). The Duke of Richmond, the 
Earl of Arundel, Jermyn the invincible, the Earl of Falmouth, 
John Russell (son of the Duke of Bedford, William Russell 
(John's nephew), were among the aspirants to the hand of the 
beautiful Elizabeth Hamilton. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE Chevalier de Gramont, never satisfied in his 
amours, was fortunate without being beloved, and 
became jealous without having an attachment. 

Mrs. Middleton, as we have said, was going to 
experience what methods he could invent to torment, 
after having experienced his powers of pleasing. 

He went in search of her to the Queen's drawing- 
room, where there was a ball. There she was; but, 
fortunately for her. Miss Hamilton was there likewise. 
It had so happened, that of all the beautiful women at 
Court, this was the lady whom he had least seen, and 
whom he had heard most commended; this, therefore, 
was the first time that he had a close view of her, and 
he soon found that he had seen nothing at Court before 
this instant. He asked her some questions, to which 
she replied ; as long as she was dancing, his eyes were 
fixed upon her; and from this time he no longer 
resented Mrs. Middleton's conduct. Miss Hamilton 
was at the happy age when the charms of the fair sex 
begin to bloom; she had the finest shape, the loveliest 
neck, and most beautiful arms in the world; she was 
majestic and graceful in all her movements ; and she 
was the original after which all the ladies copied in their 
taste and air of dress.^ Her forehead was open, white, 
and smooth; her hair was well set, and fell with ease 
into that natural order which it is so difficult to imitate. 
Her complexion was possessed of a certain freshness, 
not to be equalled by borrowed colours : her eyes were 
^ And arrangement of their hair (Vizetelly's translation). 

126 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 127 

not large, but they were lively, and capable of express- 
ing whatever she pleased : her mouth was full of graces, 
and her contour uncommonly perfect : nor was her 
nose, which was small, delicate, and turned up, the 
least ornament of so lovely a face. In fine, her air, her 
carriage, and the numberless graces dispersed over her 
whole person, made the Chevalier de Gramont not 
doubt but that she was possessed of every other quali- 
fication. Her mind was a proper companion for such 
a form : she did not endeavour to shine in conversation 
by those sprightly sallies which only puzzle; and with 
still greater care she avoided that affected solemnity in 
her discourse which produces stupidity; but without 
any eagerness to talk, she just said what she ought, 
and no more. She had an admirable discernment in 
distinguishing between solid and false wit; and far 
from making an ostentatious display of her abilities, 
she was reserved, though very just in her decisions. 
Her sentiments were always noble, and even lofty to 
the highest extent, when there was occasion ; neverthe- 
less, she was less prepossesed with her own merit than 
is usually the case with those who' have so much. 
Formed as we have described, she could not fail of 
commanding love; but so far was she from courting 
it, that she was scrupulously nice with respect to those 
whose merit might entitle them to form any pretensions 
to her. 

The more the Chevalier de Gramont was convinced 
of these truths, the more did he endeavour to please 
and engage her in his turn. His entertaining wit, his 
conversation, lively, easy, and always distinguished by 
novelty, constantly gained him attention; but he was 
much embarrassed to find that presents, which so easily 
made their way in his former method of courtship, 
were no longer proper in the mode which, for the 
future, he was obliged to pursue. 



128 THE COURT OF CHARLES ll 

He had an old valet-de-chambre, called Termes, a 
bold thief, and a still more impudent liar: he used 
to send this man from London every week, on the 
commissions we have before mentioned. But after 
the disgrace of Mrs. Middleton, and the adven- 
ture of Miss Warmester, Mr. Termes was only em- 
ployed in bringing his master's clothes from Paris, 
and he did not always acquit himself with the 
greatest fidelity in that employment, as will appear 
hereafter. 

The Queen was a woman of sense, and used all her 
endeavours to please the King, by that kind, obliging 
behaviour which her affection made natural to her : she 
was particularly attentive in promoting every sort of 
pleasure and amusement, especially such as she could 
be present at herself. 

She had contrived, for this purpose, a splendid 
masquerade, where those whom she appointed to dance 
had to represent different nations. She allowed some 
time for preparation, during which, we may suppose, 
the tailors, the mantua-makers, and embroiderers were 
not idle. 

Nor were the beauties, who were to be there, less 
anxiously employed; however. Miss Hamilton found 
time enough to invent two or three little tricks, in a 
conjuncture so favourable, for turning into ridicule 
the vain fools of the Court. There were two who were 
very eminently such: the one was Lady Muskerry,' 

''Lady Margaret de Burgh, only child of Ulick, Marquis of 
Clanricarde, by Lady Ann'e Compton, daughter of William, Earl 
of Northampton. She was three times married: ist, To Charles, 
Viscount Muskerry, eldest son of the Earl of Clancarty, and 
nephew of the Duke of Ormonde, who lost his life in the great 
sea-fight with the Dutch, 3rd June 1665. 2nd, In 1676, to Robert 
Villiers, third Viscount Purbeck, who was killed in a duel in 
1684. 3rd, To Major-General Robert, better known as Beau 
Fielding^^ ' '- . 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 129 

who had married her cousin-german ; and the other a 
maid of honour to the Duchess, called Blague.' 

The first, whose husband most assuredly never 
married her for beauty, was made like the generality 
of rich heiresses, to whom just Nature seems sparing of 
her gifts, in proportion as they are loaded with those 
of Fortune. She had the shape of a woman big with 
child, without being so; but had a very good reason 
for limping; for, of two legs uncommonly short, one 
was much shorter than the other. A face suitable to 
this description gave the finishing stroke to this dis- 
agreeable figure. 

Miss Blague was another species of ridicule: her 
shape was neither good nor bad : her countenance bore 
the appearance of the greatest insipidity, and her com- 
plexion was the same all over; with two little hollow 
eyes, adorned with white* eyelashes, as long as one's 
finger. With these attractions she placed herself in 
ambuscade to surprise unwary hearts; but she might 
have done so in vain, had it not been for the arrival 
of the Marquis de Brisacier.^ Heaven seemed to have 
made them for each other: he had in his person and 
manners every requisite to dazzle a creature of her 
character : he talked eternally, without saying anything, 
and In his dress exceeded the most extravagant fash- 
ions. Miss Blague believed that all this finery was on 
her account; and the Marquis believed that her long 

'It appears, by Chamb'erlayne's AnglicB Notitia, 1669, that this 
lady, or perhaps her sister, continued one of the Duchess's maids 
of honour at that period. The Hst, at the time, was as follows : — 
Mrs. Arabella Churchill, Mrs. Dorothy Howard, Mrs. Anne Ogle, 
Mrs. Mary Blague, daughter of Colonel Blague, a devoted ad- 
herent to Charles II. during exile. The Mother of the maids 
then was Mrs. Lucy Wise. 

^Light, not white (Vizetelly's translation). 

^ It was Henrietta Maria, the sister of Mary Blague, who had 
the flirtation with the Marquis. She married afterwards Sir 
Thomas Yarborough of Snaith, Yorkshire. Evelyn mentions an- 
other sister, Margaret. 



I30 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

eyelashes had never taken aim at any but himself: 
everybody perceived their inclination for each other; 
but they had only conversed by mute interpreters, when 
Miss Hamilton took it into her head to intermeddle in 
their affairs. 

She was willing to do everything in order, and 
therefore began with her cousin Muskerry on account 
of her rank. Her two darling foibles were dress and 
dancing. Magnificence of dress was intolerable with 
her figure ; and though her dancing was still more in- 
supportable, she never missed a ball at Court ; and the 
Queen had so much complaisance for the public, as 
always to make her dance. But it was impossible to 
give her a part in an entertainment so important and 
splendid as this masquerade." However, she was dying 
with impatience for the orders she expected. 

It was in consequence of this impatience, of which 
Miss Hamilton was informed, that she founded the 
design of diverting herself at the expense of this silly 
woman. The Queen sent notes tO' those whom she 
appointed to be present, and described the manner in 
which they were to be dressed. Miss Hamilton wrote 
a note^ exactly in the same manner to Lady Muskerry, 
with directions for her to be dressed in the Babylonian 
fashion. 

She assembled her counsel to advise about the means 
of sending it. This cabinet was composed of one of 
her brothers and a sister, who were glad to divert 
themselves at the expense of those who deserved it. 
After having consulted some time, they at last resolved 
upon a mode of conveying it into her own hands. 
Lord Muskerry was just going out when she received 
it : he was a man of honour, rather serious, very 

®Both Evelyn and Pepys mention this masquerade under the 
dates 2nd and 3rd February 1664-5 (vide Cunningham's " Chro- 
nology," 

'Had a note written (Vizetelly's translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 131 

severe, and a mortal enemy to ridicule. His wife's 
deformity was not so intolerable to him as the ridicu- 
lous figure she made upon all occasions. He thought 
that he was safe in the present case, not believing that 
the Queen would spoil her masquerade by naming Lady 
Muskerry as one of the dancers; nevertheless, as he 
was acquainted with the passion his wife had to expose 
herself in public, by her dress and dancing, he had just 
been advising her very seriously to content herself with 
being a spectator of this entertainment, even though 
the Queen should have the cruelty to engage her in it. 
He then took the liberty to show her what little simi- 
larity there was between her figure and that of persons 
to whom dancing and magnificence in dress were allow- 
able. His sermon concluded at last, by an express pro- 
hibition to solicit a place at this entertainment, which 
they^ had no thoughts of giving her. But, far from 
taking his advice in good part, she imagined that he 
was the only person who had prevented the Queen 
from doing her an honour she so ardently desired ; and 
as soon as he was gone out, her design was to go and 
throw herself at her Majesty's feet to demand justice. 
She was in this very disposition when she received the 
billet : three times did she kiss it ; and without regarding 
her husband's injunctions, she immediately got into 
her coach in order to get information of the merchants 
who traded to the Levant, in what manner the ladies 
of quality dressed in Babylon. 

The plot laid for Miss Blague was of a different 
kind. She had such faith in her charms, and was so 
confident of their effects, that she could believe any- 
thing. Brisacier, whom she looked upon as desperately 
smitten, had wit, which he set off with commonplace 
talk, and with little sonnets : he sung out of tune most 
methodically, and was continually exerting one or 
5— Memoirs 'The Queen (ibid.), y^l^ ^ 



132 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

other of these happy talents. The Duke of Bucking- 
ham did all he could to spoil him, by the praises he 
bestowed upon both his voice and upon his wit. 

Miss Blague, who hardly understood a word of 
French, regulated herself upon the Duke's authority, 
in admiring the one and the other. It was remarked, 
that all the words which he sung to her were in praise 
of fair women^ and that always taking this to her- 
self, she cast down her eyes in acknowledgment 
and consciousness. It was upon these observa- 
tions they resolved to make a jest of her the first 
opportunity. 

While these little projects were forming, the King, 
who always wished to oblige the Chevalier de Gra- 
mont, asked him if he would make one at the mas- 
querade, on condition of being Miss Hamilton's part- 
ner ? He did not pretend to dance sufficiently well for 
an occasion like the present; yet he was far from 
refusing the offer : "Sire," said he, "of all the favours 
you have been pleased to show me since my arrival, I 
feel this more sensibly than any other ; and to convince 
you of my gratitude, I promise you all the good offices 
in my power with Miss Stewart." He said this be- 
cause they had just given her an apartment separate 
from the rest of the maids of honour, which made the 
courtiers begin to pay respect to her. The King was 
very well pleased at this pleasantry, and having 
thanked him for so necessary an offer : "Monsieur le 
Chevalier," said he, "in what style do you intend to 
dress yourself for the ball? I leave you the choice of 
all countries." "If so," said the Chevalier, "I will 
dress after the French manner, in order to disguise 
myself; for they already do me the honour to take me 
for an Englishman in your city of London. Had it not 
been for this, I should have wished to have appeared 
as a Roman; but for fear of embroiling myself with 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 133 

Prince Rupert,* who so warmly espouses the interests 
of Alexander against Lord Thanet,** who declares 
himself for Caesar, I dare no longer think of assum- 
ing the hero; nevertheless, though I may dance 
awkwardly, yet, by observing the tune, and with a 
little alertness, I hope to come off pretty well ; besides, 
Miss Hamilton will take care that too much attention 
shall not be paid to me. As for my dress, I shall send 
Termes off to-morrow morning ; and if I do not show 
you at his return the most splendid habit you have 
ever seen, look upon mine as the most disgraced nation 
in your masquerade." 

Termes set out with ample instructions on the 
subject of his journey; and his master, redoubling 
his impatience on an occasion like the present, before 
the courier could be landed, began to count the minutes 
in expectation of his return. Thus was he employed 
until the very eve of the ball; and that was the day 
that Miss Hamilton and her little society had fixed for 
the execution of their project. 

Martial" gloves were then very much in fashion. 
She had by chance several pairs of them: she sent 
one to Miss Blague, accompanied with four yards of 
yellow riband, the palest she could find, to which she 
added this note: 

"You were the other day more charming than all 
the fair women in the world: you looked yesterday 
still more fair than you did the day before : if you go 
on, what will become of my heart? But it is a long 

'See footnote, p. 312. 

"•Either John or Nicholas Tufton, the second and third Earls 
of Thanet. The second Earl died in 1664, and was succeeded by 
his eldest son Nicholas, b. 1631, ob. 1679. From the hardships the 
family suffered in the Royalist cause they adopted the motto 
** Fiel pero desdichado.** In the Tufton chapel at Rainham, near 
Rochester, there are numerous ancestral tombs. 

" Martial was a fashionable Paris glove-maker at the time (see 
Vizetelly's edition of the Memoirs, voL i. p. 165), 



134 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

time since that has been a prey to your pretty little 
young wild boar's eyes.^ Shall you be at the masquer- 
ade to-morrow? But can there be any charms at an 
entertainment at which you are not present? It does 
not signify : I shall know you in whatever disguise you 
may be : but I shall be better informed of. my fate by 
the present I send you. You will wear knots of this 
riband in your hair; and these gloves will kiss the 
most beautiful hands in the universe/' 

This billet, with the present, was delivered to Miss 
Blague with the same success as the other had been 
conveyed to Lady Muskerry. Miss Hamilton had just 
received an account of it, when the latter came to pay 
her a visit : something seemed to possess her thoughts 
very much, when, having stayed some time, her cousin 
desired her to walk into her cabinet. As soon as they 
were there : "I desire your secrecy for what I am going 
<o tell you," said Lady Muskerry. "Do you not 
wonder what strange creatures men are ? Do not trust 
to them, my dear cousin. My Lord Muskerry, who, 
before our marriage, could have passed whole days and 
nights in seeing me dance, thinks proper now to forbid 
me dancing, and says it does not become me. This is 
not all : he has so often rung in my ears the subject 
of this masquerade, that I am obliged to hide from 
him the honour the Queen has done me in inviting 
me to it, However, I am surprised I am not informed 
who is to be my partner: but if you knew what a 
plague it is to find out, in this cursed town, in what 
manner the people of Babylon dress, you would pity 
me for what I have suffered since the time I have been 
appointed. Besides, the cost which it puts me to is 
beyond all imagination." 

"Marcassin is French for a wild boar: The eyes of this 
creature being remarkably small and lively, from thence the 
French say, " Des yeux marcassins," to signify little, though 
roguish eyes; or, as we say, pigs' eyes. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 135 

Here it was that Miss Hamilton's inclination to 
laugh, which had increased in proportion as she en- 
deavoured to suppress it, at length overcame her, and 
broke out in an immoderate fit. Lady Muskerry took 
it in good humour, not doubting but it was the fantas- 
tical conduct of her husband that she was laughing at. 
Miss Hamilton told her that all husbands were much 
the same, and that one ought not to be concerned at 
their whims ; that she did not know who was to be her 
partner at the masquerade ; but that, as she was named, 
the gentleman named with her would certainly not fail 
to attend her ; although she could not comprehend why 
he had not yet declared himself, unless he likewise 
had some fantastical spouse, who had forbid him to 
dance. 

This conversation being finished, Lady Muskerry 
went away in great haste, to endeavour to learn some 
news of her partner. Those who were accomplices in 
the plot were laughing very heartily at this visit, when 
Lord Muskerry paid them one in his turn, and taking 
Miss Hamilton aside : "Do you know," said he, 
"whether there is to be any ball in the city to-mor- 
row?" "No," said she; "but why do you ask?" 
"Because," said he, "I am informed that my wife is 
making great preparations of dress. I know very 
well she is not to be at the masquerade: that I have 
taken care of ; but as the devil is in her for dancing, I 
am very much afraid that she will be affording some 
fresh subject for ridicule, notwithstanding all my pre- 
cautions : however, if it was amongst the citizens, at 
some private party, I should not much mind it." 

They satisfied him as well as they could, and 
having dismissed him, under pretence of a thousand 
things they had to prepare for the next day, Miss 
Hamilton thought herself at liberty for that morn- 
ing, when in came Miss Price, one of the maids of 



136 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

honour to the Duchess." This was just what she 
was wishing for. This lady and Miss Blague had been 
at variance some time, on account of Duncan/* whom 
Miss Price had drawn away from the other; and 
hatred still subsisted between these two divinities. 

Though the maids of honour were not nominated 
for the masquerade, yet they were to assist at it ; and, 
consequently, were to neglect nothing to set them- 

*^This lady was Goditha Price, the sister of Henrietta Maria 
Price, ^Yho was maid of honour to the Queen (the latter figures 
in the list of names in Chamberlayne's Anglic^ Notitia). 

According to Pepys, a Miss Price was the mistress of the Duke 
of York, but was not openly acknowledged as such, going to her 
assignations "up and down the privy stairs" (loth June 1666). 
The footnote to Scott's 'edition of the Memoirs points out that 
Miss Price was maid of honour to the Queen, not the Duchess, 
though her Christian name is not specified; but the fact of the 
lady being the Duke's mistress looks as if she was, as stated by 
Gramont, maid of honour to the Duchess, therefore we will take 
as conclusive Mr. Steinman's assertion that it was Goditha who 
died unmarried and was buried at St. Margaret's, Westminster, 
7th September 1678. 

On the other hand, there appears to be a similarity between 
Gramont's Miss (or rather Mrs., as single ladies were called) 
Price and the lady correspondent of the Earl of Chesterfi'eld 
in 1665 or 1666, who sent him a pair of gloves with a poem by 
Lord Rochester, the latter being endorsed by Chesterfield : " From 
Mrs. Pris'e, Maid of Honour to Her Majesty." The association 
of Rochester in both instances strengthens this supposition {vide 
the Memoirs). 

The Queen's maid of honour, Henrietta Maria Price, became 
the second wife of Alexander Stanhope, son of Sir John Stan- 
hope of Elvaston, Derbyshire. Her father was Sir Herbert Price, 
Bart, Master of the Household to Queen Henrietta Maria (hence 
perhaps his daughter's name), and afterwards to King Charles 
II. She was buried in Westminster Abbey, 23rd October 1674. 
There was also at Court a certain Lady Price nee Warcup. Her 
father. Sir Edmond Warcup, belonged to an old Oxfordshire 
family, and wrote with pride that his daughter "was one night 
and t'other with the King, and very graciously received by him " 
(see Wood's Fasti Oxen, vol. ii. p. 184; also Grainger, vol. iv. p. 
438. See also Steinman's Memoir of Barbara, Duchess of Cleve- 
land, p. 7Z\ Pepys's Diary, vol. v. p. 321; and The Letters of 
Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, pp. 136-137). 

**Dongan (not Duncan).^ Lord Orford says of this house were 
the ancient Earls of Limerick. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 137 

selves off to advantage. Miss Hamilton had still 
another pair of gloves of the same sort as those she 
had sent to Miss Blague, which she made a present 
of to her rival, with a few knots of the same riband, 
which appeared to have been made on purpose for her, 
brown"" as she was. Miss Price returned her a thou- 
sand thanks, and promised to do herself the honour of 
wearing them at the ball. *'You will obHge me if you 
do,'' said Miss Hamilton, "but if you mention that 
such a trifle as this comes from me, I shall never for- 
give you. But," continued she, "do not go and rob poor 
Miss Blague of the Marquis Brisacier, as you already 
have of Duncan."' I know very well that it is wholly 
in your power : you have wit : you speak French : 
and were he once to converse with you ever so little, 
the other could have no pretensions to him." This 
was enough. Miss Blague was only ridiculous and 
coquettish : Miss Price was ridiculous, coquettish, and 
something else besides. 

The day being come, the Court, more splendid than 
ever, exhibited all its magnificence at this masquerade. 
The company were all met except the Chevalier de 
Gramont : everybody was astonished that he should be 
one of the last at such a time, as his readiness was so 
remarkable on every occasion ; but they were still more 
surprised to see him at length appear in an ordinary 
court-dress, which he had worn before. The thing was 
preposterous on such an occasion, and very extraordi- 
nary with respect to him: in vain had he the finest 
point-lace, with the largest and best-powdered peruke 
imaginable: his dress, magnificent enough for any 
other purpose, was not at all proper for this entertain- 
ment. 

The King immediately took notice of it. "Cheva- 
lier," said he, "Termes is not arrived then?" "Pardon 
** DarL " Dongan. 



138 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

me, sire," said he ; "God be thanked !" "Why God be 
thanked?" said the King; "has anything happened 
to him on the road?" "Sire," said the ChevaHer de 
Gramont, "this is the history of my dress, and of 
Termes, my messenger." At these words the ball, 
ready to begin, was suspended : the dancers making a 
circle around the Chevalier de Gramont, he continued 
his story in the following manner: 

"It is now two days since this fellow ought to have 
been here, according to my orders and his protesta- 
tions; you may judge of my impatience all this day, 
when I found he did not come. At last, after I had 
heartily cursed him, about an hour ago he arrived, 
splashed all over from head to foot, booted up to the 
waist, and looking as if he had been excommunicated. 
*Very well, Mr. Scoundrel,' said I, 'this is just like you ; 
you must be waited for to the very last minute, and 
it is a miracle that you are arrived at all.' *Yes, faith,' 
said he, *it is a miracle. You are always grumbling : I 
had the finest suit in the world made for you, which 
the Duke de Guise himself was at the trouble of order- 
ing.' 'Give it me then, scoundrel,' said I. 'Sir,' said 
he, 'if I did not employ a dozen embroiderers upon it, 
who did nothing but work day and night, I am a 
rascal : I never left them one moment.' 'And where is 
it, traitor ?' said I : 'do not stand here prating, while I 
should be dressing.' 'I had,' continued he, 'packed it 
up, made it tight, and folded it in such a manner, that 
all the rain in the world could never have been able 
to reach it; and I rid post, day and night, knowing 
your impatience, and that you were not to be trifled 
with.' 'But where is it?' said I. 'Lost, sir,' said he, 
clasping his hands. 'How! lost,' said I, in surprise. 
'Yes, lost, perished, swallowed up: what can I say 
more ?' 'What ! was the packet-boat cast away then ?' 
said I. 'Oh! indeed, sir, a great deal worse, as you 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 139 

shall see/ answered he : *I was within half a league of 
Calais yesterday morning, and I was resolved to go by 
the seaside, to make greater haste; but, indeed, they 
say very true, that nothing is like the highway; for I 
got into a quicksand, where I sunk up to the chin.' 'A 
quicksand,' said I, 'near Calais?' *Yes, sir,' said he, 
'and such a quicksand, that, the devil take me, if they 
saw anything but the top of my head when they pulled 
me out : as for my horse, fifteen men could scarce 
get him out; but the portmanteau, where I had un- 
fortunately put your clothes, could never be found : it 
must be at least a league underground.' " 

''This, sire," continued the Chevalier de Gramont, 
"is the adventure, and the relation which this honest 
gentleman" has given me of it. I should certainly have 
killed him, but I was afraid of making Miss Hamilton 
wait, and I was desirous of giving Your Majesty 
immediate advice of the quicksand, that your couriers 
may take care to avoid it." 

The King was ready to split his sides with laughing, 
when the Chevalier de Gramont, resuming the dis- 
course : "Apropos, sire," said he, "I had forgot to tell 
you, that, to increase my ill-humour, I was stopped, 
as I was getting out of my chair, by the devil of 
a phantom in masquerade, who would by all means 
persuade me that the Queen had commanded me to 
dance with her; and as I excused myself with the 
least rudeness possible, she charged me to find out who 
was to be her partner, and desired me to send him 
to her immediately. So that Your Majesty will do 
well to give orders about it; for she has placed herself 
in ambush in a coach, to seize upon all those who pass 
through Whitehall. However, I must tell you, that 
it is worth while to see her dress, for she must have at 
least sixty ells of gauze and silver tissue about her, 
''Fellow (Vizetelly). 



I40 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

not to mention a sort of a pyramid upon her head, 
adorned with a hundred thousand baubles/' 

This last account surprised all the assembly, except 
those who had a share in the plot. The Queen assured 
them that all she had appointed for the ball were 
present; and the King, having paused some minutes, 
"I bet," said he, "that it is the Duchess of New- 
castle,"^^ "And I," said Lord Muskerry, coming up to 
Miss Hamilton, "will bet it is another fool ; for I am 
very much mistaken if it is not my wife." 

The King was for sending to know who it was, and 
to bring her in. Lord Muskerry offered himself for 
that service, for the reason already mentioned ; and it 
was very well he did so. Miss Hamilton was not sorry 
for this, knowing very well that he was not mistaken 
in his conjecture; the jest would have gone much 
farther than she intended, if the Princess of Babylon 
had appeared in all her glory. 

The ball was not very well executed, if one may be 
allowed the expression, so long as they danced only 

*® Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Lucas of Cokhester, and 
sister of John, Lord Lucas. She married William Cavendish, 
Marquis of Newcastle, created Duke in 1665. She had been one 
of the maids of honour to Charles the First's queen, whom she at- 
tended when forced to leave England. At Paris she married the 
Duke of Newcastle, and continued in exile with him until the 
Restoration. After her return to England, she lived entirely de- 
voted to letters, and published many volumes of plays, poems, let- 
ters, etc. She died in 1673, and was buried in Westminster Abbey. 
There is a whole-length of this duchess at Welbeck, in a theatrical 
dress, which, tradition says, she generally wore. She had always a 
maid of honour in waiting during the night, who was often called 
up to register the Duchess's conceptions. These were all of a lit- 
erary kind; for her Grace left no children. Pepys writes, nth 
April 1667: "The whole story of this lady is a romance and all she 
do is romantick.'* Her antiquated appearance is thus described by 
him : " a velvet cap, her hair about her ears, many black patches, 
because of pimples about her mouth ; naked-necked, without any- 
thing about it, and a black just-au-corps" (jacket). Wherever 
she went it appears she had a crowd following her. See Pepys's 
Diary, vol. vi. pp. 246, 269, 290, 299, 312. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 141 

slow dances ; and yet there were as good dancers, and 
as beautiful womeii in this assembly, as were to be 
found in the whole world; but as their number was 
not great, they left the French and went to country 
dances. When they had danced some time, the King 
thought fit to introduce his auxiliaries, to give the 
others a little respite; the Queen's and the Duchess's 
maids of honour were therefore called in to dance'* 
with the gentlemen. 

Then it was that they were at leisure to take notice 
of Miss Blague, and they found that the billet they 
had conveyed to her on the part of Brisacier had its 
effect. She was more yellow than saffron: her'" hair 
was stuffed with the citron-coloured riband, which she 
had put there out of complaisance; and, to inform 
Brisacier of his fate, she raised often to her head her 
victorious hands, adorned with the gloves we have 
before mentioned. But, if they were surprised to see 
her in a head-dress that made her look more wan than 
ever, she was very differently surprised to see Miss 
Price partake with her in every particular of Brisa- 
cier's present. Her surprise soon turned to jealousy; 
for her rival had not failed to join in conversation 
with him, on account of what had been insinuated to 
her the evening before; nor did Brisacier fail to return 
her first advances, without paying the least attention 
to the fair Blague, nor to the signs which she was 

"^The masquerade took place on 2nd February 1664-5. Undter 
chat date Evelyn says in his Diary: " I saw a masq perform'd at 
Court by 6 gentlemen and 6 ladys— surprizing His Majesty, it 
being Candlemas day." On the 3rd, Pepys says: There "were 
six wom'en (my Lady Castlemayne and Duchesse of Monmouth 
being two of them) and six men (the Duke of Monmouth and 
Lord Arran and Monsieur Blanfort [Blanquefort, afterwards 
Earl of Feversham] being three of them) in vizards, but most 
rich and antique dresses, did dance admirably and most glori- 
ously. God give us cause to continue the mirthe I " 

'^ Light hair (Vizetelly). 



142 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

tormenting herself to make him, to inform him of his 
happy destiny. 

Miss Price was short and thick, and consequently 
no dancer. The Duke of Buckingham, who brought 
Brisacier forward as often as he could, came to desire 
him, on the part of the King, to dance with Miss 
Blague, without knowing what was then passing in 
that nymph's heart. Brisacier excused himself, on 
account of the contempt that he had for country 
dances. Miss Blague thought that it was herself that 
he despised; and seeing that he was engaged in con- 
versation with her mortal enemy, she began to dance, 
without knowing what she was doing. Though her 
indignation and jealousy were sufficiently remarkable 
to divert the Court, none but Miss Hamilton and her 
accomplices understood the joke perfectly. Their 
pleasure was quite complete; for Lord Muskerry re- 
turned, still more confounded at the vision of which 
the Chevalier de Gramont had given the description. 
He acquainted Miss Hamilton that it was Lady 
Muskerry herself, a thousand times more ridiculous 
than she had ever been before, and that he had had 
an immense trouble to get her home, and place a sentry 
at her chamber door. 

The reader may think, perhaps, that we have dwelt 
too long on these trifling incidents ; perhaps he may be 
right. We will therefore pass to others. 

Everything favoured the Chevalier de Gramont in 
the new passion which he entertained. He was not, 
however, without rivals ; but, what is a great deal more 
extraordinary, he was without uneasiness. He was 
acquainted with their understandings, and no stranger 
to Miss Hamilton's way of thinking. 

Among her lovers, the most considerable, though 
the least professedly so, was the Duke of York : it was 
in vain for him to conceal it, the Court was too well 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 143 

acquainted with his character to doubt of his inclina- 
tions for her. He did not think it proper to declare 
such sentiments as were not fit for Miss Hamilton to 
hear; but he talked to her as much as he could, and 
ogled her with great assiduity. As hunting was his 
favourite diversion, that sport employed him one part 
of the day, and he came home generally much fa- 
tigued; but Miss Hamilton's presence revived him, when 
he found her either with the Queen or the Duchess. 
There it was that, not daring to tell her of what lay 
heavy on his heart, he entertained her with what he 
had in his head ; telling her miracles of the cunning of 
foxes and the mettle of horses; giving her accounts 
of broken legs and arms, dislocated shoulders, and 
other curious and entertaining adventures; after 
which, his eyes told her the rest, till such time as sleep 
interrupted their conversation ; for these tender inter- 
preters could not help sometimes composing" them- 
selves in the midst of their ogling. 

The Duchess was not at all alarmed at a passion 
which her rival was far from thinking sincere, and 
with which she used to divert herself, as far as respect 
would permit her; on the contrary, as Her Highness 
had an affection and esteem for Miss Hamilton, she 
never treated her more graciously than on the present 
occasion. 

The two Russells, uncle" and nephew,'* were two 
other of the Chevalier de Gramont's rivals. The 

"Closing (Vizetelly). 

^John Russell, third son of Francis, the fourth Earl of Bed- 
ford, and younger brother of the first Duke of Bedford, colonel 
of the first regiment of foot guards. He died unmarried, 1681. 
In 1664, at the time Gramont speaks of, Russell was fully twenty 
years younger than above described (see Notes and Queries, 
Series I. vol. ix. p. 584). Pepys mentions him at a Court ball 
15th November 1666. 

"* William, eldest son of Hon. Edward Russell, who was the 
brother of Colonel John, mentioned above, and William, the fifth 
Earl of Bedford (afterwards created Duke), whose son Lord 



144 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

unde was full seventy," and had distinguished him- 
self by his courage and fidelity in the civil wars. His 
passions and intentions, with regard to Miss Hamil- 
ton, appeared both at once; but his magnificence only 
appeared by halves in those gallantries which love 
inspires. 

It was not long since the fashion of high-crowned 
hats had been left off, in order to fall into the other 
extreme. Old Russell, amazed at so terrible a change, 
resolved to keep a medium, which made him remark- 
able. He was still more so, by his constancy for cut'^ 
doublets, which he supported a long time after they 
had been universally suppressed ; but, what was more 
surprising than all was a certain mixture of avarice 
and liberality, constantly at war with each other, ever 
since he had entered the lists with love. 

His nephew was only of a younger brother's fam- 
ily, but was considered as his uncle's heir ; and though 
he was under the necessity of attending to his uncle for 
an establishment, and still more so of humouring him, 
in order to get his estate, he could not avoid his fate. 
Mrs. Middleton showed him a sufficient degree of 
preference ; but her favours could not secure him from 
the charms of Miss Hamilton. His person would have 
had nothing disagreeable in it if he had but left it to 
nature ; but he was formal in all his actions, and silent 
even to stupidity ; and yet rather more tiresome when 
he did speak. 

William Russell was behfeaded for implication in the Rye House 
Plot. A portrait of the last mentioned has been given in three 
of the illustrated editions of De Gramont, though he was a 
cousin of the William Russell described above, and had no con- 
nection with the adventures recorded in the Memoirs. The 
Chevalier's youthful rival was half-brother to the Misses Brooke. 
He died unmarried in 1674. 

'*In the original French it is sixty (see Vizetelly*s edition), but 
to give the uncle's real age at this time, forty would be more 
correct * Slashed (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 545 

The Chevalier de Gramont, very much at his ease 
in all these competitions, engaged himself more and 
more in his passion, without forming other designs, 
or conceiving other hopes, than to render himself 
agreeable. Although his passion v^as openly declared, 
no person at Court regarded it otherwise than as a 
habit of gallantry, which goes no farther than to do 
justice to merit. 

His monitor, Saint-Evremond, was quite of a dif- 
ferent opinion, and finding that, besides an immense 
increase of magnificence and assiduity, he regretted 
those hours which he bestowed on play ; that he no 
longer sought after those long and agreeable conver- 
sations they used to have together; and that this new 
attachment everywhere robbed him of himself: 

"Monsieur le Chevalier," said he, "methinks that 
for some time you have left the town beauties and 
their lovers in perfect repose. Mrs. Middleton makes 
fresh conquests with impunity, and wears your pres- 
ents, under your nose, without your taking the small- 
est notice. Poor Miss Warmester has been very 
quietly brought to bed in the midst of the Court, with- 
out your having even said a word about it. I foresaw 
it plain enough. Monsieur le Chevalier, you have got 
acquainted with Miss Hamilton, and — what has never 
before happened to you — you are really in love. But 
let us consider a little what may be the consequence. 
In the first place, then, I believe you have not the least 
intention of seducing her; such is her birth and merit, 
that if you were in possession of the estate and title 
of your family, it might be excusable in you to offer 
yourself upon honourable terms, however ridiculous 
marriage may be in general; for, if you only wish for 
wit, prudence, and the treasures of beauty, you could 
not pay your addresses to a more proper person. But 
for you, who possess only a very moderate share of 



146 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

those of fortune, you cannot pay your addresses more 
improperly. 

"For your brother Toulongeon," whose disposition 
I am acquainted with, will not have the complaisance 
to die to favour your pretensions. But suppose you 
had a competent fortune for you both, — and that is 
supposing a good deal, — are you acquainted with the 
delicacy not to say capriciousness, of this fair one 
about such an engagement? Do you know that she 
has had the choice of the best matches in England? 
The Duke of Richmond paid his addresses to her first ; 
but though he was in love with her, still he was merce- 
nary. However, the King, observing that want of for- 
tune was the only impediment to the match, took that 
article upon himself, out of regard to the Duke of 
Ormonde, to the merit and birth of Miss Hamilton, 
and to her father's services ; but resenting that a man, 
who pretended to be in love, should bargain like a 
merchant, and likewise reflecting upon his character 
in the world, she did not think that being Duchess of 
Richmond was a sufficient recompense for the danger 
that was to be feared from a brute and a debauchee. 

"Has not little Jermyn, notwithstanding his uncle's 
great estate, and his own brilliant reputation, failed 
in his suit to her? And has she ever so much as 
vouchsafed to look at Henry Howard," who is upon 

* Count de Toulongeon, elder brother of tKe Count de Gra- 
mont, ob. 1679. 

"Henry Howard (b. 1628, ob. 1684) succeeded his brother 
Thomas in the Dukedom of Norfolk (revived 1664) in 1677, be- 
fore which (1672) he was created Earl of Norwich ^nd con- 
stituted Earl Marshal of England. He bequeathed the library 
made by his grandfather, Thomas, Earl of Arundel, to the Royal 
Society, and the famous Arundel marbles to Oxford university. 

Evelyn says, 23rd January 1678: " Din'd with the Duke of 
Norfolk, being the first time I had scene him since the death of 
his elder brother, who died at Padoa in Italy, where he resided 
above 30 yeares. The Duke had now newly declar'd his marriage 
to his concubine, whom he promis'd me he never would marry." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 147 

the point of being the first duke in England, and who 
is already in actual possession of all the estates of 
the house of Norfolk? I confess that he is a clown, 
but what other lady in all England would not have 
dispensed with his stupidity and his disagreeable per- 
son to be the first duchess in the kingdom, with twenty- 
five thousand a year? 

"To conclude, Lord Falmouth has told me himself 
that he has always looked upon her as the only acquisi- 
tion wanting to complete his happiness ; but, that even 
at the height of the splendour of his fortune, he never 
had had the assurance to open his sentiments to her; 
that he either felt in himself too much weakness, or too 
much pride, to be satisfied with obtaining her solely by 
the persuasion of her relations; and that, though the 
first refusals of the fair on such occasions are not 
much minded, he knew with what an air she had 
received the addresses of those whose persons she did 
not like. After this. Monsieur le Chevalier, consider 
what method you intend to pursue : for if you are in 
love, the passion will still increase, and the greater the 
attachment, the less capable will you be of making 
those serious reflections that are now in your power." 

"My poor philosopher,'' answered the Chevalier de 

Gramont, "you understand Latin very well, you can 

This was his second wife, Jane Bickerton, the actress daughter 
of a Scotch gentleman, Robert Bickerton, gentleman of the wine 
cellar to Charles II. ^ Evelyn speaks of the Duke's " Palace " 
(Ham House, Weybridge), newly built at great expense, and of 
its costly fittings, pictures, etc. It was afterwards sold to James 
II.'s mistress, the Countess of Dorchester, and through her 
daughter descended to the Earls of Portmore. Nothing now re- 
mains but the (restored) piers of the entrance gate (for further 
particulars see Secret Chambers and Hiding Places, pp. 214-216). 
The Duke of Norfolk appears to have parted with most of his 
valuable pictures, Evelyn asked whether he would part with his 
Raphael cartoons and drawings (on 9th March 1683), and was 
told "the late Sir Peter Lely had gotten some of his best" (Eve- 
lyn's Diary). These were dispersed at that artists's famous sale 
of pictures. 



148 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

make good verses, you understand the course, and 
are acquainted with the nature of the stars in the 
firmament; but, as for the luminaries of the terrestrial 
globe, you are utterly unacquainted with them. You 
have told me nothing about Miss Hamilton but what 
the King told me three days ago. That she has refused 
the savages you have mentioned is all in her favour : if 
she had admitted their addresses, I would have had 
nothing to say to her, though I love her to distraction. 
Attend now to what I am going to say : I am resolved 
to marry her, and I will have my tutor Saint-Evremond 
himself to be the first man to commend me for it. As 
for an establishment, I shall make my peace with the 
King, and will solicit him to make her one of the ladies 
of the bed-chamber to the Queen. This he will grant 
me. Toulongeon will die, without my assistance, and 
notwithstanding all his care ; and Miss Hamilton will 
have Semeac,"* with the Chevalier de Gramont, as an 
indemnification for the Norfolks and Richmonds. 
Now, have you anything to advance against this 
project? For I will bet you an hundred louis that 
everything will happen as I have foretold it." 

At this time the King's attachment to Miss Stewart 
was so public, that every person perceived, that if she 
was but possessed of art, she might become as abso- 
lute a mistress over his conduct as she was over his 
heart.** This was a fine opportunity for those who 

^Semeac, a country s'eat belonging to the Gramonts. 

'^Sth February 1662-3. Pepys mentions a story, related by one 
Captain Ferrers, of an entertainment given by Lady Castlemaine, 
" a frolique that they two must be married. Married they were 
with ring and all other ceremonies of Church service, and rib- 
bands and a sack posset in bed and flinging the stocking; but in 
the close, it is said that my Lady Castlemaine, who was the 
bridegroom, ros'e, and the King came and took her place with 
pretty Mrs. Stuart." This story, however, is unsubstantiated, 
though it was certainly rumoured that Frances Stewart had 
become the King's mistress (vide Pepys, 17th February 1662-3, 
i8th May 1663, and 15th April 1666). That these were only 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 149 

had experience and ambition. The Duke of Bucking- 
ham formed the design of governing her, in order to 
ingratiate himself with the King: God knows what a 
governor he would have been, and what a head he was 
possessed of, to guide another. However, he was the 
properest man in the world to insinuate himself with 
Miss Stewart ; she was childish in her behaviour, and 
laughed at everything, and her taste for frivolous 
amusements, though unaffected, was only allowable in 
a girl about twelve or thirteen years old. A child, 
however, she was, in every other respect, except play- 
ing with a doll. Blindman's buff was her most favour- 
ite amusement. She was building castles of cards, 
while the deepest play was going on in her apart- 
ments, where you saw her surrounded by eager court- 
iers, who handed her the cards, or young architects, 
who endeavoured to imitate her. 

She had, however, a passion for music, and had 
some taste for singing. The Duke of Buckingham, 

rumours may be gathered from an entry on 6th November 1663. 
Lord Sandwich here tells Pepys " how he and Sir H. Bennet, the 
Duke of Buckingham and his Duchesse, was of a committee with 
somebody else for the getting of Mrs. Stewart for the King ; but 
that she proves a common slut, and is advised at Somerset House 
by the Queen Mother and by her mother, and so all the plot is 
spoiled and the whole committee broke." Three days later. 
Pierce, the surgeon, tells Pepys "how the King is now become 
besotted upon Mrs. Stewart, that he gets into corners, and will 
be with her half an hour together kissing her to the observation 
of all the world ; and she now stays by herself and expects it" ; 
and on 20th January 1663-4, the diarist records from the same 
source that the King "do doat upon Mrs. Stewart only'* and 
** dallies with her openly, and then privately in his chamber below, 
where the very sentrys observe his going in and out, and that so 
commonly that the Duke or any of the nobles when they would 
ask where the King is, they will ordinarily say, *Ts the King 
above or below ? ' meaning with Mrs. Stewart." On 8th February 
1663-4, again from Pierce, Pepys learns how the Queen " will of 
herself stop before she goes sometimes into her dressing-room 
till she knows whether the King be there, for fear he should be 
as she hath sometimes taken him with Mrs. Stewart" 



I50 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

who built the finest towers of cards imaginable, had 
an agreeable voice. She had no aversion to scandal; 
and the Duke was both the father and the mother of 
scandal. He made songs, and invented old women's 
stories, with which she was delighted ; but his particu- 
lar talent consisted in turning into ridicule whatever 
was ridiculous in other people, and in taking them off, 
even in their presence, without their perceiving it. In 
short, he knew how to act all parts with so much grace 
and pleasantry, that it was difficult to do without him, 
when he had a mind to make himself agreeable; and 
he made himself so necessary to Miss Stewart's amuse- 
ment, that she sent all over the town to seek for him, 
when he did not attend the King to her apartments. 

He was extremely handsome,'" and still thought 
himself much more so than he really was. Although 
he had a great deal of discernment, yet his vanity made 

^"George Villiers, the second Duke of Buckingham, was born 
30th January 1627. Lord Orf ord observes : " When this extraor- 
dinary man, with the figure and genius of Alcibiades, could 
equally charm the presbyterian Fairfax and the dissolute Charles ; 
when he alike ridiculed that witty king and his solemn chancellor ; 
when he plotted the ruin of his country with a cabal of bad min- 
isters, or, equally unprincipled, supported its cause with bad 
patriots, — one laments that such parts should have been devoid 
of every virtue; but when Alcibiades turns chemist; when he is 
a real bubble and a visionary miser; when ambition is but a 
frolic; when the worst designs are for the foolishest ends, — con- 
tempt extinguishes all reflection on his character." 

" The portrait of this duke has been drawn by four masterly 
hands. Burnet has hewn it out with his rough chisel; Count 
Hamilton touched it with that slight delicacy that finishes while 
it seems but to sketch; Dryden caught the living likeness; Pope 
completed the historical resemblance" (Royal Authors, vol. ii. 
p. 78). 

Bishop Burnet says, he "was a man of noble presence. He 
had a great liveliness of wit, and a peculiar faculty of turning 
all things into ridicule, with bold figures, and natural descriptions. 
He had no sort of literature, only he was drawn into chemistry; 
and for some years he thought he was very near the finding 
the philosopher's stone, which had the effect that attends on all 
such men as he was when they are drawn in, to lay out for it. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 151 

him mistake some civilities as intended for his person, 
which were only bestowed on his wit and drollery. In 
short, being seduced by too good an opinion of his 
own merit, he forgot his first project and his Portu- 
guese mistress, in order to pursue a fancy in which he 
mistook himself; for he no sooner began to act a 
serious part with Miss Stewart, than he met with so 
severe a repulse that he abandoned at once all his 

He had no principles of religion, virtue, or friendship — ^pleasure, 
frolic, or extravagant diversion was all that he laid to heart. 
He was true to nothing; for he was not true to himself. He 
had no steadiness nor conduct: he could keep no secret, nor 
execute any design without spoiling it He could never fix his 
thoughts, nor govern his estate, though then the greatest in 
England. He was bred about the King, and for many years he 
had a great ascendency over him; but he spake of him to all 
persons with that contempt, that at last he drew a lasting disgrace 
upon himself. And he at length ruined both body and mind, 
fortune and reputation equally. The madness of vice appeared 
in his person in very eminent instances ; since at last he became 
contemptible and poor, sickly, and sunk in his parts, as well as 
in all other respects; so that his conversation was as much 
avoided as ever it had been courted." — History of his Own Time, 
vol. i. p. 137. 

Reresby speaks of Buckingham as " the finest gentleman of 
person and wit I think I ever saw" (Memoirs p. 40). Like the 
first Duke, he had a particularly graceful mien, and in horseman- 
ship, fencing, or dancing, nobody could surpass him. Profligacy, 
vanity, and restless ambition were perhaps Buckingham's chief 
characteristics ; but with all his faults he is said to have been 
charitable, good-natured, and forgiving, and, like his rival Ar- 
lington, always courteous. His chief amusements, especially in 
the latter part of his life, were racing and hunting, and it was 
while following the hounds that he caught a chill which resulted 
in his death, at the house of a tenant at Kirkby Moorside, on 
i6th April 1687. With the death of Charles II., Buckingham 
had retired from the political arena, and lived peacefully in 
Yorkshire. He had fallen into disgrace in 1674, but was again 
received into favour towards the end of Charles's reign. His 
wife, Mary Fairfax, survived him seventeen years, and was 
buried with her husband in Henry VH.'s Chapel, Westminster. 
Among the Duke of Buckingham's satirical poems, lampoons, 
and plays. The Rehearsal, published in 1672, is by far the best. 
See Buckingham's Miscellaneous Works, 1704-5 ; also Diet, of 
Nat. Biography, vol. Iviii. pp. 337-345. 



152 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

designs upon her. However, the familiarity she had 
procured him with the King opened the way to those 
favours to which he was afterwards advanced. 

"The Duke of Bucks is one," says Samuel Butler, "that has 
studied the whole body of vice. His parts are disproportionate 
to the whole, and, like a monster, he has more of some, and less 
of others, than he should have. He has pulled down all that 
nature raised in him, and built himself up again after a model 
of his own. He has dammed up all those lights that nature 
made into the noblest prospects of the world, and opened other 
little blind loopholes backward, by turning day into night, and 
night into day. His appetite to his pleasures is diseased and 
crazy, like the pica in a woman, that longs to eat that which 
was never made for food, or a girl in the gre'en sickness, that 
eats chalk and mortar. Perpetual surfeits of pleasure have filled 
his mind with bad and vicious humours (as well as his body with 
a nursery of diseases), which makes him affect new and 'extrava- 
gant ways, as being sick and tired with the old. Continual wine, 
women, and music, put false value upon things, which, by cus- 
tom, become habitual, and debauch his understanding so, that he 
retains no right notion nor sense of things. And as the same 
dose of the same physic has no operation on those that are much 
used to it, so his pleasures require larger proportion of excess 
and variety, to render him sensible of them. He rises, eats, and 
goes to bed by the Julian account, long after all others that 
go by the new style, and keeps the same hours with owls and the 
antipodes. He is a great observer of the Tartar customs, and 
never 'eats till the great cham, having dined, makes proclamation 
that all the world may go to dinner. He does not dwell in his 
house, but haunts it like an evil spirit, that walks all night, to 
disturb the family, and never appears by day. He lives perpetu- 
ally benighted, runs out of his life, and loses his time as men 
do their ways in the dark; and as blind men are led by their 
dogs, so is h'e governed by some mean servant or other, that re- 
lates to his pleasures. He is as inconstant as the moon which 
he lives under; and although he does nothing but advise with 
his pillow all day, he is as great a stranger to himself as he is to 
the rest of the world. His mind entertains all things very freely 
that come and go, but, like guests and strangers, they are not 
welcome if they stay long. This lays him op'en to all cheats, 
quacks, and impostors, who apply to every particular humour 
while it lasts, and afterwards vanish. Thus, with St. _ Paul, 
though in a different sense, he dies daily, and only lives in the 
night. He deforms nature, whil'e he intends to adorn her, like 
Indians that hang jewels in their lips and noses. His ears are 
perpetually drilled with a fiddlestick. He endures pleasures with 
less patience than other men do their pains*' (Butler's Pos- 
thumous Works, vol. ii. p. 72), 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 153 

Lord Arlington'^ took up the project which the 
Duke of Buckingham had abandoned, and endeav- 
oured to gain possession of the mind of the mistress, 
in order to govern the master. A man of greater merit 
and higher birth than himself might, however, have 
been satisfied with the fortune he had already acquired. 

^ Henry Bennet, Earl of Arlington, second son of Sir John 
Bennet of Harlington, Middlesex, born 1618. He was secretary 
to the Duke of York in France before the Restoration. When 
Charles came to the throne he was made Keeper of the Privy 
Purse, and, according to Burnet (vol. i. p. 182, 1833 fedit.), with 
his friend Sir Charles Berkeley, had the management of the Royal 
mistresses; no easy task, one would imagine, but his easy prin- 
ciples, natural cunning, and dissimulation, combined with his 
courtly mann'er and good breeding, peculiarly adapted him for 
such an office. " He was little calculated for bold measures on 
account of his natural timidity," says Macpherson (Original 
Papers, vol. i.), "and that defect created an opinion of his mod- 
eration that was ascribed to virtue. His facility to adopt new 
measures was forgotten in his readiness to acknowledge the 
errors of the old. The deficiency of his Integrity was forgiven 
in the decency of his dishonesty." He managed to keep in the 
King's good graces until his retirement towards the end of 
Charles's reign. His solemn face and formal gait, his official 
white staff and the ungainly black patch across the bridge of 
his nose made him the object of much mimicry among the 
younger generation of courtiers (see Echard, p. 369). 

He was made Secretary of State, October 1662, and in the 
following year was created Viscount Thetford and Earl of 
Arlington : by an error at the Heralds' College the H was 
omitted. It was at his seat, Euston Hall, where Louise Keroualle, 
afterwards Duchess of Portsmouth, b'ecame the King's mistress 
(see Evelyn's Diary, pth October 1671). Both Pepys and Evelyn 
mention his town residence " Goring House," which occupied the 
site of the present Buckingham Palace. The latter speaks of the 
costly Interior decorations — ^pictures, cabinets, hangings, etc. — 
"the most princely furniture that any subj'ect had in England,'* 
which, with the mansion, were destroyed by fire in September 
1674 ; Pepys, 12th July 1666 ; Evelyn, 7th April 1673 and 2ist Sep- 
tember 1674; also Hist. M.S. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 492). 

The Earl died 28th July 1685 (and was buried at Euston), 
leaving an only daughter, Isabella, who married (1672) Henry, 
Earl of Euston, afterwards Duke of Grafton, Charles II.'s son 
by the Duchess of Cleveland. See Cunningham's London; Diet, 
of Nat. Biography, vol. iv. pp. 230-233; Macpherson's Original 
Papers, vol. i.; Works of John Sheffield, Duke of Bucking- 
ham, etc. 



154 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

His first negotiations were during the treaty of the 
Pyrenees ; and though he was unsuccessful in his pro- 
ceedings for his employer, yet he did not altogether 
lose his time : for he perfectly acquired in his exterior 
the serious air and profound gravity of the Spaniards, 
and imitated pretty well their tardiness in business. 
He had a scar across his nose, which was covered by 
a long patch, or rather by a small plaister, in form of 
a lozenge. 

Scars in the face commonly give a man a certain 
fierce and martial air, which sets him off to advan- 
tage; but it was quite the contrary with him, and 
this remarkable plaister so well suited his mysterious 
looks, that it seemed an addition to his gravity and 
self-sufficiency. 

Arlington, under the mask of this compound 
countenance, where great earnestness passed for busi- 
ness, and impenetrable stupidity for secrecy, had given 
himself the character of a great politician ; and no one 
having leisure to examine him, he was taken at his 
word, and had been made minister and secretary of 
state, upon the credit of his own importance. 

His ambition soaring still above these high stations, 
after having provided himself with a great number 
of fine maxims, and some historical anecdotes, he 
obtained an audience of Miss Stewart, in order to 
display them; at the same time offering her his most 
humble services, and best advice, to assist her in con- 
ducting herself in the situation to which it had pleased 
God and her virtue to raise her. But he was only in 
the preface of his speech, when she recollected that 
he was at the head of those whom the Duke of Buck- 
ingham used to mimic; and as his presence and his 
language exactly revived the ridiculous ideas that had 
been given her of him, she could not forbear bursting 
out into a fit of laughter in his face, so much the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 155 

more violent as she had for a long time struggled to 
suppress it. 

The minister was enraged: his pride became his 
post, and his punctilious behaviour merited all the 
ridicule which could be attached to it. He quitted 
her abruptly, with all the fine advice he had prepared 
for her, and was almost tempted to carry it to Lady 
Castlemaine, and to unite himself with her interests; 
or immediately to quit the Court party, and declaim 
freely in Parliament against the grievances of the 
State, and particularly to propose an Act to forbid the 
keeping of mistresses. But his prudence conquered 
his resentments; and only thinking how to enjoy with 
pleasure the blessings of fortune, he sent to Holland 
for a wife,'^ in order to complete his felicity. 

Hamilton^^ was, of all the courtiers, the best quali- 
fied to succeed in an enterprise in which the Duke of 
Buckingham and Lord Arlington had miscarried. He 
was thinking upon it; but his natural coquetry trav- 
ersed his intentions, and made him neglect the most 
advantageous prospects in the world, in order un- 
necessarily to attend to the advances and allurements 
thrown out to him by the Countess of Chesterfield. 
This was one of the most agreeable women in the 
world. She had a most exquisite shape, though she 
was not very tall. Her complexion was extremely 
fair, with all the expressive charms of a brunette. She 
had large blue eyes, very tempting and alluring; her 
manners were engaging; her wit lively and amusing; 
but her heart, ever open to tender sentiments, was 

^^This lady was Isabella, daughter to Lewis de Nassau, Lord 
Beverwaert, son to Maurice, Prince of Orange, and Count Nas- 
sau. Her daughter Isabella, previously mentioned (note, p. 153), 
married, secondly, Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bart. She assisted at 
the coronation of King George I., as Countess of Arlington, in 
her own right, and died 7th February \'j22-2). Her portrait, by 
Kneller, is among the "Hampton Court Beauties." 

^^Jam'es Hamilton. 



156 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

neither scrupulous in point of constancy, nor nice in 
point of sincerity. She was daughter to the Duke of 
Ormonde,'^ and Hamilton, being her cousin-german, 
they might be as much as they pleased in each other's 
company without being particular; but as soon as her 
eyes gave him some encouragement, he entertained no 
other thoughts than how to please her, without consid- 
ering her fickleness, or the obstacles he had to encoun- 
ter. His intention, which we mentioned before, of 
establishing himself in the confidence of Miss Stewart 
no longer occupied his thoughts: she now was of 
opinion that she was capable of being the mistress of 
her own conduct. She had done all that was necessary 
to inflame the Kidtig's passions, without exposing her 
virtue by granting the last favours ; but the eagerness 
of a passionate lover, blessed with favourable oppor- 
tunities, is difficult to withstand, and still more difficult 
to vanquish; and Miss Stewart's virtue was almost 
exhausted, when the Queen was attacked with a vio- 
lent fever, which soon reduced her to extreme danger. 
Then it was that Miss Stewart was greatly pleased 
with herself for the resistance she had made, though 
she had paid dearly for it. A thousand flattering 
hopes of greatness and glory filled her heart, and the 
additional respect that was universally paid her con- 
tributed not a little to increase them. The Queen was 
given over by her physicians:^ the few Portuguese 

'^Elizabeth Butler, the second wife of Philip, second Earl of 
Chesterfield, the daughter of James Butler, first Duke of Or- 
monde. She died in July 1665, aged twenty-five. The portrait o£ 
the Countess in Jameson's Beauties of the Court of Charles IL 
represents the Earl's third wife, who does not figure in the 
Memoirs. 

^^ This happened in October 1663. Lord Arlington, in a letter 
to the Duke of Ormonde, dated the 17th of that month, says: 
*' The condition of the Queen is much worse, and the physicians 
give us but little hopes of her recovery ; by the next you will hear 
she is either in fair way to it, or dead: to-morrow is a very 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 157 

women that had not been sent back to their own coun- 
try filled the Court with doleful cries; and the good 
nature of the King was much affected with the situa- 
tion in which he saw a princess, whom, though he did 
not love her, yet he greatly esteemed. She loved him 
tenderly, and thinking that it was the last time she 
should ever speak to him, she told him, that the con- 
cern he showed for her death was enough to make her 
quit life with regret; but that, not possessing charms 
sufficient to merit his tenderness, she had at least the 
consolation in dying to give place to a consort who 
might be more worthy of it, and to whom heaven, per- 
haps, might grant a blessing that had been refused to 
her. At these words, she bathed his hands with some 
tears, which he thought would be her last. He 
mingled his own with hers; and without supposing 
she would take him at his word, he conjured her to 
live for his sake. She had never yet disobeyed him; 
and, however dangerous sudden impulses may be, 
when one is between life and death, this transport of 
joy, which might have proved fatal to her, saved her 
life, and the King's wonderful tenderness had an effect 
for which every person did not thank Heaven in the 
same manner. 

critical day with her : God's will be done. The King is coming to 
see her this morning, she told him she willingly left all the world 
but him; which hath very much afflicted His Majesty, and all 
the Court with him" (Brown's Miscellanea Aulica, 1702, p. 306). 
" Though she has some little respite from time to time," writes 
Comminges to King Louis (ist November 1663), "I despair of 
her recovery. . , . The King seems to me deeply affected. Well ! 
he supped none the less yesterday with Madame de Castlemaine, 
and had his usual talk with Mile. Stewart,^ of whom he is exces- 
sively fond. There is already a talk of his marrying again, and 
everybody gives him a new wife according to his own inclination ; 
and there are some who do not look beyond England to find 
one for him** (see Jusserand's French Ambassador at the Court 
of Charles IL 1892, p. 88; see also Pepys*s Diary, igth-ssth 
October 1663). 



158 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Jermyn had now for some time been recovered of 
his wounds. However, Lady Castlemaine, finding his 
health in as deplorable a condition as ever, resolved to 
regain the King's heart, but in vain ; for notwithstand- 
ing the softness of her tears, and the violence of her 
passions. Miss Stewart wholly possessed it. During 
this period the Court was variously entertained : some- 
times there were promenades, and at others the Court 
beauties sallied out on horseback, and to make attacks 
with their charms and graces, sometimes successfully, 
sometimes otherwise, but always to the best of their 
abilities"^ at other seasons there were such shows on 
the river as the city of London alone can afford. 

The Thames washes the sides of a large though not 
a magnificent palace of the kings of Great Britain.'' 

^On 13th July 1663 Pepys gives a vivid picture of the above. 
" Hearing that the King and Queen are rode abroad with the 
Ladies of Honour to the Park, and seeing a great crowd of 
gallants staying here to see their return, I also staid walking up 
and down. By and by the King and Queen, who looked in this 
dress (a white laced waistcoat and a crimson short petty coat, 
and her hair dressed a la negligence) mighty pretty; and the 
King rode hand in hand with her. Here was also my Lady 
Castlemaine rode among the rest of the ladies; but the King 
took, methought, no notice of her ; nor when they 'light did any- 
body press (as she seemed to expect, and staid for it) to take 
her down, but was taken down by her own gentleman. She 
looked mighty out of humour, and had a yellow plume in her 
hat (which all took notice of), and yet is Very handsome, but 
very melancholy; nor did anybody speak to her, or she so much 
as smile or speak to anybody. I followed them up into White 
Hall, and into the Queen's presence, where all the ladies walked, 
talking and fiddling with their hats and feathers, and changing 
and trying one another's by one another's heads, and laughing. 
But it was the finest sight to me, considering their great beautys 
and dress, that ever I did see in all my life. But above all Mrs. 
Stewart in this dress with her hat cocked and a red plume." 

"The Palace of Whitehall extended from the Tham'es to St. 
James's Park, and from old Scotland Yard to Canon Row, West- 
minster, a public road running through the two gateways, known 
as Whitehall Gate and King Street Gate, from Charing Cross 
to Westminster. The original mansion of Henry VHL's time was 
in the style of Hampton Court, with a series of galleries and 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 159 

From the stairs of this palace the Court used to take 
water in the summer evenings, when the heat and dust 
prevented their walking in the park. An infinite num- 
ber of open boats, filled with the Court and city beau- 
ties, attended the barges, in which were the royal 
family. Collations, music, and fireworks completed 
the scene. The Chevalier de Gramont always made 
one of the company, and it was very seldom that he 
did not add something of his own invention, agreea- 
bly to surprise by some unexpected stroke of mag- 
nificence and gallantry. Sometimes he had complete 
concerts of vocal and instrumental music, which he 
privately brought from Paris, and which struck up on 
a sudden in the midst of these parties; sometimes he 
gave banquets, which likewise came from France, and 
which, in the midst of London, surpassed the 
King's collations. These entertainments sometimes 
exceeded, as others fell short of his expectations, but 
they always cost him an immense deal of money. 

Lord Falmouth was one of those who had the 
greatest friendship and esteem for the Chevalier de 
Gramont. This profusion gave him concern, and as he 
often used to go and sup with him without ceremony, 

courts, and Hall, Chapel, Tennis Court, Cockpit, Orchard, and 
Banqueting House. The last-named building is the only portion 
that was re-erected, in the reign of James I., by Inigo Jones, who 
was to have reconstructed the whole Palace, but the idea was 
never carried out. This excepted, the whole was burned down 
in William IH.'s reign : first, by a fire on loth April 1691 (when 
all the buildings over the Stone Gallery to the water side, in- 
cluding the more recently rebuilt apartments of the Duchess of 
Portsmouth, at the end of the Long Gallery, where the fire 
originated, were destroyed) ; and, secondly, by the greater fire of 
4th January 1697-8, of th'e various apartments Pepys refers occa- 
sionally to, Henry VIII/s Gallery, the Boarded Gallery, the Mat- 
ted Gall'ery, the Shield Gallery, the Stone Gallery, and the 
Vane Room. There were also the Guard Room, the Adam and 
Eve Gallery. Fisher's Ground Plan of about 1670 (not 1680) 
mentions the names of those to whom the several apartments 
were allotted. See Cunningham's London, pp. 549-5SO- 



i6o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

one day finding only Saint-Evremond there, and a 
supper fit for half a dozen guests, who had been in- 
vited in form: **You must not," said he, addressing 
himself to the Chevalier de Gramont, "be obliged to 
me for this visit. I come from the King's coucher, 
where all the discourse was about you; and I can 
assure you that the manner in which the King spoke 
of you, could not afford you so much pleasure as I 
myself felt upon the occasion. You know very well, 
that he has long since offered you his good oflQces 
with the King of France ; and for my own part," con- 
tinued he, smiling, "you know very well that I would 
solicit him so to do, if it was not through fear of 
losing you as soon as your peace is made ; but, thanks 
to Miss Hamilton, you are in no great haste. However, 
I am ordered by the King, my master, to acquaint you, 
that, while you remain here until you are restored to 
the favour of your sovereign, he presents you with a 
pension of fifteen hundred Jacobuses.^ It is indeed a 
trifle, considering the figure the Chevalier de Gramont 
makes among us, but it will assist hini," said he, em- 
bracing him, "to give us sometimes a supper." 

The Chevalier de Gramont received, as he ought, 
the offer of a favour he did not think proper to accept. 
"I acknowledge," said he, "the King's bounty in this 
proposal, but I am still more sensible of Lord Fal- 
mouth's generosity in it, and I request him to assure 
his Majesty of my perfect gratitude. The King, my 
master, will not suffer me to want, when he thinks fit 
to recall me ; and while I continue here I will let you 
see that I have wherewithal to give my English 
friends, now and then, a supper." 

At these words, he called for his strong-box, and 
showed him seven or eight thousand guineas in solid 
gold. Lord Falmouth, willing to improve to the 

^£1875. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT i6i 

Chevalier's advantage the refusal of so advantageous 
an offer, gave Monsieur de Comminges,** then Am- 
bassador at the English Court, an account of it; 
nor did Monsieur de Comminges fail to represent 
properly the merit of such a refusal to the French 
Court.*" 

Hyde Park, every one knows, is the promenade 
of London :^ nothing was so much in fashion, during 
the fine weather, as that promenade, which was the 
rendezvous of magnificence and beauty. Every one, 
therefore, who had either sparkling eyes, or a splendid 

'^Comminges was Ambassador in London, from the Court of 
France, during the years 1663, 1664, and 1665. Lord Clarendon, 
sp'eaking of him, describes him as somewhat capricious in his 
nature, which made him hard to treat with, and not always 
vacant at the hours himself assigned ; being hypochondriac, and 
seldom sleeping without opium (Continuation of Clarendon's 
Life, p. 263). 

^""The Chevalier de Gramont," writes Comminges to Louis 
XIV. (ioth-20th December 1663), "was delighted with the news 
I gave him, and repeated to me a thousand times that he pre- 
ferred to serve Your Majesty for nothing than all the Kings in 
the world for all their treasures. He is preparing to take his 
leave of the Sovereign of Great Britain, to whom he is doubtless 
under great obligations for the gracious manner in which he has 
been received and treated." 

** " I did frequently, in the spring, accompany my Lord N 

into a field near the town, which they call Hyde Park; the place 
is not unpleasant, and which they use as our course; but with 
nothing of that order, equipage, and splendour; being such an 
assembly of wretch'ed jades, and hackney coaches, as, next a 
regiment of carm'en, there is nothing approaches the resemblance. 
This park was (it seems) used by the late king and nobility for 
the freshness of the air and the goodly prospect ; but it is that 
which now (besides all other excises) they pay for here, in 
England, though it be free In all the world besides ; every coach 
and horse which enters buying his mouthful, and permission 
of the publican who has purchased It; for which the entrance 
is guarded with porters and long staves '* {A Character of Eng- 
land, as it was lately presented to a Nobleman of France, i2mo, 
1659,. p. 54). Evelyn, writing In April 1653, says: "A fee of 
a shilling was charged for every coach and sixpence for every 
horse. The Park became the resort of fashion for drives and 
promenades in Charles II.'s reign. It was then first walled in 
with brick/* 



i62 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

equipage, constantly repaired thither; and the King 
seemed pleased with the place. 

Coaches with glasses*' were then a late invention. 
The ladies were afraid of being shut up in them. They 
greatly preferred the pleasure of showing almost their 
whole persons, to the conveniences of modern coaches. 
That which was made for the King not being remark- 
able for its elegance, the Chevalier de Gramont was 
of opinion that something ingenious might be in- 
vented, which should partake of the ancient fashion, 
and likewise prove preferable to the modern. He 
therefore sent away Termes privately with all the 
necessary instructions to Paris. The Duke of Guise*^ 
was likewise charged with this commission; and the 
courier, having by the favour of Providence escaped 
the quicksand, in a month's time brought safely over 
to England the most elegant and magnificent calash 
that had ever been seen, which the Chevalier presented 
to the King. 

The Chevalier de Gramont had given orders that 
fifteen hundred louis should be expended upon it; but 
the Duke of Guise, who was his friend, to oblige him, 

*^ Coaches wiere first introduced into England in the year 1564. 
Taylor, the Water Poet {Works, 1630, p. 240), says: "One Wil- 
liam Boonen, a Dutchman, brought first the use of coaches hither ; 
and the said Boonen, was Queen Elizabeth's coachman; for, in- 
deed, a coach was a strange monster in those days, and the sight 
of them put both horse and man into amazement." Dr. Percy 
observes, they were first drawn by two horses, and that it was 
the favourite Buckingham who, about 1619, began to draw with 
six horses. About the same time, he introduced the sedan. The 
Ultinium Vale of John Carleton, 4to, 1663, p. 2^, will, in a great 
measure, ascertain the time of the introduction of glass coaches. 
He says: "I could wish her {i.e. Mary Carleton's) coach (which 
she said my Lord Taff bought for her in England, and sent it 
over to her, made of the new fashion, with glasse, very stately; 
and her pages and lacquies were of the same livery) was come 
for me," etc. 

*^ Henry de Lorraine, Duke de Guls'e, Count d'Eu, Prince de 
Joinville, b. 1614, oh. 1664. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 163 

laid out two thousand. All the Court was in admira- 
tion at the magnificence of the present; and the King, 
charmed with the Chevalier's attention to everything 
which could afford him pleasure, failed not to acknowl- 
edge it. He would not, however, accept a present of 
SO' much value, but upon condition that the Chevalier 
should not refuse another from him. 

The Queen, imagining that so splendid a carriage 
might prove fortunate for her, wished to appear in it 
first, with the Duchess of York. Lady Castlemaine, 
who had seen them in it, thinking that it set off a fine 
figure to greater advantage than any other, desired the 
King to lend her this wonderful calash to appear in it 
the first fine day in Hyde Park. Miss Stewart had the 
same wish, and requested to have it on the same day. 
As it was impossible to reconcile these two goddesses, 
whose former union was turned into mortal hatred, 
the King was very much perplexed. 

The Queen Dowager, who, though she had no 
share in these broils, had no objection to them, and as 
usual being diverted with this circumstance, she took 
occasion to joke with the Chevalier de Gramont, for 
having thrown this bone of contention among such 
competitors ; and did not fail to give him, in the pres- 
ence of the whole Court, those praises which so mag- 
nificent a present deserved. "But how comes it," said 
she, "that you have no equipage yourself, although 
you are at so great an expense ? for I am told that you 
do not keep even a single footman, and that one of the 
common runners in the streets lights you home with a 
stinking link."** "Madam," said he, "the Chevalier de 
Gramont hates pomp: my link-boy, of whom you 
speak, is faithful to my service; and besides, he is 

*^ " A street urchin lights, you home with one of those pitch 
torches which makes the whole town stink" (Vizetelly's trans- 
lation). 

6— Memoirs Vol. 4 



i64 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

one of the bravest fellows in the world. Your Majesty 
is unacquainted with the nation of link-boys: it is a 
charming one, I can assure you : a man cannot step out 
in the night without being surrounded by a dozen of 
them. The first time I became acquainted with them, 
I retained all that offered me their services; so that 
when I arrived at Whitehall, I had at least two hun- 
dred about my chair. The sight was new ; for those 
who had seen me pass with this illumination, asked 
whose funeral it was. These gentlemen, however, 
began fighting about some dozen shillings I had 
thrown among them then; and he whom your Majesty 
mentions, having beaten three or four of his compan- 
ions, I retained him for his valour. As for the parade 
of coaches and footmen, I despise it: I have some- 
times had five or six valets-de-chambre at once, with- 
out having a single servant in livery, except my chap- 
lain Poussatin." "How!" said the Queen, bursting 
out laughing, **a chaplain in your livery ! he surely was 
not a priest?" "Pardon me, madam," said he, "and 
the first priest in the world for the Biscayan jig." 
"Chevalier," said the King, "pray tell us the history of 
your chaplain Poussatin." 



CHAPTER VIII 



S« >-^ Tr>T7 » 



s 



IRE/' said the Chevalier de Gramont, "the 
Prince de Conde besieged Lerida : , the place 
in itself was nothing; but Don Gregorio Brice, 
who defended it, was something. He was one of those 
Spaniards of the old stamp, as valiant as the Cid, 
as proud as all the Guzmans put together, and more 
gallant than all the Abencerrages of Grenada. He 
suffered us to make our first approaches to the place 
without the least molestation. The Marshal de Gra- 
mont' — whose maxim it was that a governor who at 
first makes a great blustering, and burns his suburbs 
in order to make a noble defence, generally makes a 
very bad one — looked upon Gregorio de Brice's polite- 
ness as no good omen for us ; but the Prince, covered 
with glory, and elated with the campaigns of Rocroi, 
Nordlingen, and Fribourg, to insult both the place and 
the governor, ordered the trenches to be mounted at 
noon-day by his own regiment, at the head of which 
marched four-and-twenty fiddlers, as if it had been to 
a wedding. 

"Night approaching, we were all in high spirits: 
our violins were playing soft airs, and we were com- 

* This was in 1647. Voltaire says : ** He, Conde, was accused, 
upon this occasion, in certain books, of a bravado, in having 
opened the trenches to the music of violins; but these writers 
were ignorant that this was the custom of Spain " (Age of Louis 
XIV. chap. ii.). 

'Anthony, Marechal of France. He appears to have quitted 
the army in 1672. " Le Due de la Feuillade est colonel du regi- 
ment des gardes sur la demission volontaire du Marechal de 
Gramont" (Renault's History of France), He died 1678. 

i65 



1 66 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

fortably regaling ourselves. God knows how we were 
joking about the poor governor and his fortifications, 
both of which we promised ourselves to take in less 
than twenty-four hours. This was going on in the 
trenches, when we heard an ominous cry from the 
ramparts, repeated two or three times, of 'Alert on 
the walls!' This cry was followed by a discharge of 
cannon and musketry, and this discharge by a vigor- 
ous sally, which, after having filled up^ the trenches, 
pursued us as far as our grand guard. 

"The next day Gregorio Brice sent by a. trumpet a 
present of ice and fruit to the Prince de Conde, 
humbly beseeching his Highness to excuse his not re- 
turning the serenade which he was pleased to favour 
him with, as unfortunately he had no violins; but that 
if the music of last night was not disagreeable to him, 
he would endeavour to continue it as long as he did 
him the honour to remain before the place. The 
Spaniard was as good as his word ; and as soon as we 
heard, *Alert on the walls/ we were sure of a sally, 
that cleared our trenches, destroyed our works, and 
killed the best of our officers and soldiers. The Prince 
was so piqued at it, that, contrary to the opinion of 
the general officers, he obstinately persisted in carry- 
ing on a siege which was like to ruin his army, and 
which he was at last forced to quit in a hurry. 

"As our troops were retiring, Don Gregorio, far 
from giving himself those airs which governors gen- 
erally do on such occasions^ made no other sally than 
sending a respectful compliment to the Prince. Signor 
BrIce set out not long after for Madrid, to give an 
account of his conduct, and to receive the recom- 
pense he had merited. Your Majesty perhaps will be 
desirous to know what reception poor BrIce met with, 
after having performed the most brilliant action the 
' Emptied ( Vizetelly's translation) . 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 167 

Spaniards could boast of in all the war — he was con- 
fined by the Inquisition." 

"How!" said the Queen Dowager, "confined by 
the Inquisition for his services !" *'Not altogether for 
his services/' said the Chevalier; ''but without any 
regard to his services, he was treated in the manner I 
have mentioned for a little affair of gallantry, which 
I shall relate to the King presently. 

"The campaign of Catalonia being thus ended, we 
were returning home, not overloaded with laurels ; but 
as the Prince de Conde had laid up a great store on 
former occasions, and as he had still great projects in 
his head, he soon forgot this trifling misfortune. We 
did nothing but joke with one another during the 
march, and the Prince was the first to ridicule the 
siege. We made some of those rhymes on Lerida, 
which were sung all over France^ in order to prevent 
others more severe; however, we gained nothing by 
it, for notwithstanding we treated ourselves freely 
in our own ballads, others were composed in Paris 
in which we were ten times more severely handled. 
At last we arrived at Perpignan upon a holiday: a 
company of Catalans, who were dancing in the middle 
of the street, out of respect to the Prince came to 
dance under his windows. Monsieur Poussatin, in a 
little black jacket, danced in the middle of this com- 
pany, as if he was really mad. I immediately recog- 
nised him for my countryman, from his manner of 
skipping and frisking about. The Prince was charmed 
v/ith his humour and activity. After the dance, I sent 
for him, and inquired who he was. *A poor priest, at 
your service, my lord,' said he : *my name Is Poussatin, 
and Beam is my native country. I was going Into 
Catalonia to serve in the infantry, for, God be praised, 
I can march very well on foot; but since the war is 
happily concluded, if your lordship pleases to take me 



i68 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

into your service, I would follow you everywhere, and 
serve you faithfully.' 'Monsieur Poussatin/ said I, 
*my lordship has no great occasion for a chaplain; 
but since you are so well disposed towards me, I will 
take you into my service.' 

"The Prince de Conde, who was present at this 
conversation, was overjoyed at my having a chaplain. 
As poor Poussatin was in a very tattered condition, I 
had no time to provide him with a proper habit at 
Perpignan; but giving him a spare livery of one of 
the Marshal de Gramont's servants, I made him get up 
behind the Prince's coach, who was like to die with 
laughing every time he looked at poor Poussatin's 
uncanonical mien in a yellow livery. 

"As soon as we arrived at Paris^ the story was told 
to the Queen, who at first expressed some surprise at 
it. This, however, did not prevent her from wishing 
to see my chaplain dance ; for in Spain it is not alto- 
gether so strange to see ecclesiastics dance, as to see 
them in livery. 

"Poussatin performed wonders before the Queen; 
but as he danced with great sprightliness, she could 
not bear the odour which his violent motions diffused 
around her room. The ladies likewise began to pray 
for relief; for he had almost entirely got the better 
of all the perfumes and essences with which they were 
fortified. Poussatin, nevertheless, retired with a great 
deal of applause, and some louis d'or. 

"Some time afterwards I procured a small benefice 
in the country for my chaplain, and I have since been 
informed that Poussatin preached with the same ease 
in his village as he danced at the wedding of his 
parishioners." 

The King was exceedingly diverted at Poussatin's 
history ; and the Queen was not much hurt at his hav- 
ing been put in livery. The treatment of Gregorio 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 169 

Brice offended her far more; and being desirous to 
justify the Court of Spain, with respect to so cruel a 
proceeding: "Chevalier de Gramont," said she, "what 
heresy did Governor Brice wish to introduce into the 
state? What crime against religion was he charged 
with, that he was confined in the Inquisition?" 
"Madam," said he, "the history is not very proper to 
be related before your Majesty : it was a little amorous 
frolic, ill-timed indeed; but poor Brice meant no 
harm : a school-boy would not have been whipped for 
such a fault, in the most severe college in France ; as 
it was only for giving some proofs of his affection 
to a young Spanish fair one, who had fixed her eyes 
upon him on a solemn occasion." 

The King desired to know the particulars of the 
adventure ; and the Chevalier gratified his curiosity, as 
soon as the Queen and the rest of the Court were out 
of hearing. It was very entertaining to hear him tel! 
a story; but it was very disagreeable to differ with 
him, either in competition, or in raillery. It is true 
that at that time there were few persons at the En- 
glish Court who had merited his indignation. Rus- 
sell was sometimes the subject of his ridicule, but 
he treated him far more tenderly than he usually did 
a rival. 

This Russell was one of the most famous dancers 
in all England, I mean, for country dances. He had a 
collection of two or three hundred in print, all of whicH 
he danced at sight; and to prove that he was not an 
old man, he sometimes danced until he was almost 
exhausted. His mode of dancing was like that of his 
clothes, for they both had been out of fashion full 
twenty years. 

The Chevalier de Gramont was very sensible that 
he was very much in love; but though he saw very 
well that it only rendered him more ridiculous, yet he 



I/O fTHE COURT OF CHARtES 11 

felt some concern at the information he received, of his 
intention of demanding Miss Hamilton in marriage; 
but his concern did not last long. 

Russell, being upon the point of setting out on a 
journey, thought it was proper to acquaint his mistress 
with his intentions before his departure. The Chev- 
alier de Gramont was a great obstacle to the interview 
he was desirous of obtaining of her; but being one 
day sent for, to go and play at Lady Castkmaine's, 
Russell seized the opportunity, and addressing himself 
to Miss Hamilton with less embarrassment than is 
usual on such occasions, he made his declaration to her 
in the following manner : *T am brother to the Earl of 
Bedford : I command the regiment of guards : I have 
three thousand pounds* a year, and fifteen thousand 
in ready money : all which, madam, I come to present 
to you, along with my person. One present, I agree, 
is not worth much without the other, and therefore I 
put them together. I am advised to go to some of the 
watering-places for something of an asthma, which, 
in all probability, cannot continue ranch longer, as I 
have had it for these last twenty years. If you look 
upon me as worthy of the happiness of belonging to 
you, I shall propose it to your father, to whom I did 
not think it right to apply before I was acquainted with 
your sentiments. My nephew William is at present 
entirely ignorant of my intention; but I believe he 
will not be sorry for it, though he will thereby see 
himself deprived of a pretty considerable estate; for 
he has great affection for me, and besides, he has a 
pleasure in paying his respects to you since he has 
perceived my attachment. I am very much pleased 
that he should make his court to me, by the attention 
he pays to you; for he did nothing but squander his 
money upon that coquette Middleton, while at present 
'* Jacobuses ** (Vizetelly's translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 171 

he is at no expense, though he frequents the best com- 
pany in England." 

Miss Hamilton had much difficulty to suppress her 
laughter during this harangue. However, she told 
him that she thought herself much honoured by his 
intentions towards her, and still more obliged to him 
for consulting her, before he made any overtures to 
her relations. "It will be time enough," said she, ''to 
speak to them upon the subject at your return from 
the waters ; for I do not think it is at all probable that 
they will dispose of me before that time, and in case 
they should be urgent in their solicitations, your 
nephew William will take care to acquaint you ; there- 
fore, you may set out whenever you think proper; 
but take care not to injure your health by returning 
too soon." 

The Chevalier de Gramont, having heard the par- 
ticulars of this conversation, endeavoured^ as well as 
he could, to be entertained with it ; though there were 
certain circumstances in the declaration, notwithstand- 
ing the absurdity of others, which did not fail to give 
him some uneasiness. Upon the whole, he was not 
sorry for Russell's departure; and, assuming an air of 
pleasantry, he went to relate to the King how Heaven 
had favoured him by delivering him from so dan- 
gerous a rival. "He is gone then, Chevalier?" said 
the King. "Certainly, sire," said he; "I had the honour 
to see him embark in a coach^ with his asthma, and 
country equipage, his perruque a calotte, neatly tied 
with a yellow riband, and his old-fashioned hat cov- 
ered with oil-skin, which becomes him uncommonly 
well. Therefore I have only to contend with William 
Russell, whom he leaves as his resident with Miss 
Hamilton ; and as for him, I neither fear him upon his 
own account, nor his uncle's; he is too much in love 
himself to pay attention to the interests of another; 



172 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

and as he has but one method of promoting his own, 
which is by sacrificing the portrait, or some love-letters 
of Mrs. Middleton, I have it easily in my power to 
counteract him in such kind of favours, though I 
confess I have pretty well paid for them." 

"Since your affairs proceed so prosperously with the 
Russells," said the King, "I will acquaint you that you 
are delivered from another rival, much more danger- 
ous, if he were not already married : my brother has 
lately fallen in love with Lady Chesterfield." *^How 
many blessings at once!" exclaimed the Chevalier de 
Gramont. "I have- so many obligations to him for this 
inconstancy, that I would willingly serve him in his 
new amour, if Hamilton was not his rival: nor will 
your Majesty take it ill, if I promote the interests of 
my mistresses brother, rather than those of your Ma- 
jesty's brother." "Hamilton, however," said the King, 
"does not stand so much in need of assistance, in 
affairs of this nature, as the Duke of York ; but I know 
Lord Chesterfield is of such a disposition, that he will 
not suffer men to quarrel about his wife with the same 
patience as the complaisant Shrewsbury; though he 
well deserves the same fate." Here follows a true 
description of Lord Chesterfield.* 

* Philip Stanhope, second Earl of Chesterfield, born 1633, suc- 
ceeded to the earldom in 1656. He was committed to the Tower 
in 1658-9 for duelling and on suspect of being implicated in Sir 
George Booth's royalist rising. He fled to France, 17th January 
1660, for killing an adversary in a duel. The same year he mar- 
ried Lady Elizabeth Butler, who figures in Gramont's Memoirs. 
His first wife. Lady Anne Percy, daughter of Algernon, Earl of 
Northumberland, died in 1653. In July 1665 he again became a 
widower, and married, four years later, Lady Elizabeth Dormer, 
daughter of the Earl of Carnarvon, by whom he had two sons 
and two daughters. (His daughter by his second wife married 
Lord Lyon, Earl of Strathmore.) The Earl of Chesterfield ac- 
companied Charles IL to Dover at the Restoration and was ap- 
pointed Lord Chamberlain to the Queen in 1662. He succeeded 
the Duke of Monmouth in 1679 as Lord Warden of the King's 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 173 

He had a very agreeable face, a fine head of hair, an 
indifferent shape, and a worse air; he was not, how- 
ever, deficient in wit. A long* residence in Italy had 
made him ceremonious in his commerce with men, and 
jealous in his connection with women. He had been 
much hated by the King, because he had been much 
beloved by Lady Castlemaine. It was reported that 
he had been in her good graces prior to her marriage ; 
and as neither of them denied it, it was the more gen- 
erally believed. 

He had paid his devoirs to the eldest daughter of 
the Duke of Ormonde, while his heart was still taken 
up with his former passion. The King's love for 
Lady Castlemaine, and the advancement he expected 
from such an alliance, made him press the match with 
as much ardour as if he had been passionately in love. 
He had therefore married Lady Chesterfield without 
loving her, and had lived some time with her in such 
coolness as to leave her no room to doubt of his in- 
difference. As she was endowed with great sensibility 
and delicacy, she suffered at this contempt. She was 
at first much affected with his behaviour, and after- 
wards enraged at it; and, when he began to give her 
proofs of his affection, she had the pleasure of con- 
vincing him of her indifference. 

They were upon this footing, when she resolved to 
cure Hamilton, as she had lately done her husband, of 

Forests South of the Trent, and in 1680 was admitted into the Privy 
Council in acknowledgment of his opposing the Bill of Exclusion. 
Throughout his life the Earl was a staunch Royalist, and reso- 
lutely refused any appointments under William of Orange. After 
the abdication of James 11. he lived peacefully in retirement at 
his newly 'erected house at Bretby in Derbyshire, and died at 
his house in Bloomsbury Square in 1713. In his earlier days 
Chesterfield was a notorious rake. Sufficient evidence of his gal- 
lantries may be found in his Letter Book, which was acquired 
by the British Museum in 1852. The Earl's memoirs, with his 
correspondence, were published in 1829. 



174 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

all his remaining tenderness for Lady Castlemaine. 
For her it was no difficult undertaking. The con- 
versation of the one was disagreeable, from the unpol- 
ished state of her manners, her ill-timed pride, her 
uneven temper, and extravagant humours. Lady Ches- 
terfield, on the contrary, knew how to heighten her 
charms with all the bewitching attractions in the power 
of a woman to invent, who wishes to make a conquest. 

Besides all this, she had greater opportunities of 
making advances to him than to any other. She lived 
at the Duke of Ormonde's, at Whitehall, where Ham- 
ilton, as was said before, had free admittance at all 
hours. Her extreme coldness, or rather the disgust 
which she showed for her husband's returning affec- 
tion, wakened his natural inclination to jealousy; he 
suspected that she could not so very suddenly pass 
from anxiety to indifference for him, without some 
secret object of a new attachment; and according to 
the maxim of all jealous husbands, he immediately 
put in practice all his experience and industry, in order 
to make a discovery, which was to destroy his own 
happiness. 

Hamilton, who knew his disposition, was, on the 
other hand, upon his guard, and the more he advanced 
in his intrigue, the more attentive was he to remove 
every degree of suspicion from the Earl's mind. He 
pretended to make him his confidant, in the most un- 
guarded and open manner, of his passion for Lady 
Castlemaine :' he complained of her caprice, and most 
earnestly desired his advice how to succeed with a 
person whose affections he alone had entirely possessed. 

Chesterfield, who was flattered with this discourse, 

promised him his protection with greater sincerity than 

it had been demanded. Hamilton, therefore, was no 

further embarrassed than to preserve Lady Chester- 

'See Pepys's Diary, 20th January 1663-4. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 175 

field's reputation, who, in his opinion, declared herself 
rather too openly in his favour; but whilst he was 
diligently employed in regulating", within the rules of 
discretion, the partiality she expressed for him, and 
in conjuring her to restrain her glancjps within bounds, 
she was receiving those of the Duke of York, and, 
what is more, made them favourable returns. 

He thought that he had perceived it, as well as 
every one besides; but he thought likewise, that all 
the world was deceived as well as himself : how could 
he trust his own eyes, as to what those of Lady 
Chesterfield betrayed for this new rival? He could 
not think it probable that a woman of her disposition 
could relish a man whose manners had a thousand 
times been the subject of their private ridicule; but 
what he judged still more improbable was that she 
should begin another intrigue before she had given the 
finishing stroke to that in which her own advances 
had engaged her. However, he began to observe her 
with more circumspection, when he found by his dis- 
coveries, that if she did not deceive him, at least the 
desire of doing so was not wanting. This he took 
the liberty of telling her of; but she answered him 
in so high a strain, and treated what he said so much 
like a phantom of his own imagination, that he ap- 
peared confused without being convinced. All the 
satisfaction he could procure from her, was her tell- 
ing him, in a haughty manner, that* such unjust re- 
proaches as his ought to have had a better foundation. 

Lord Chesterfield had taken the same alarm; and 
being convinced, from the observations he had made 
that he had found out the happy lover who had gained 
possession of his lady's heart, he was satisfied; and 
without teasing her with unnecessary reproaches, he 
only waited for an opportunity to confound her, before 
he took his measures. 



176 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

After all, how can we account for Lady Chester- 
field's conduct, unless we attribute it to the disease 
incident to most coquettes, who, charmed with supe- 
riority, put in practice every art to rob another of 
her conquest, and spare nothing to preserve it. 

But before we enter into the particulars of this 
adventure, let us take a retrospect of the amours of 
his Royal Highness, prior to the declaration of his 
marriage, and particularly of what immediately pre- 
ceded this declaration. It is allowable sometimes tO' 
drop the thread of a narrative, when real facts, not 
generally known, give such a variety upon the digres- 
sion as to render it excusable. Let us see then how 
those things happened. 

The Duke of York's marriage,* with the Chancel- 
lor's daughter, was deficient in none of those circum- 
stances which render contracts of this nature valid in 
the eye of Heaven : the mutual inclination, the formal 
ceremony, witnesses, and every essential point of 
matrimony, had been observed. 

Though the bride was no perfect beauty, yet, as 
there were none at the Court of Holland who eclipsed 
her, the Duke, during the first endearments of matri- 
mony, was so far from repenting of it, that he seemed 
only to wish for the King's restoration that he might 
have an opportunity of declaring it with splendour; 
but when he saw himself enjoying a rank which placed 
him so near the throne; when the possession of Miss 
Hyde afforded him no new charms; when England, 
so abounding in beauties, displayed all that was charm- 
ing and lovely in the Court of the King his brother ; 
and when he considered he was the only prince, who, 

®The material facts in this narrative are confirmed by Lord 
Clarendon (Continuation of his Life,^ p. ZZ)' It is difficult to 
speak of the persons concerned in this infamous transaction with- 
out some degree of asperity, notwithstanding they are, by a 
Strange perversion of language, styled, all men of honour. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 177 

from such superior elevation, had descended so low, 
he began to reflect upon it. On the one hand, his 
marriage appeared to him particularly ill suited in 
every respect. He recollected that Jermyn had not 
engaged him in an intimacy with Miss Hyde, until 
he had convinced him, by several different circum- 
stances, of the facility of succeeding. He looked upon 
his marriage as an infringement of that duty and 
obedience he owed to the King; the indignation with 
which the Court, and even the whole kingdom, would 
receive the account of his marriage presented itself 
to his imagination, together with the impossibility of 
obtaining the King's consent to such an act, which 
for a thousand reasons he would be obliged to refuse. 
On the other hand, the tears and despair of poor Miss 
Hyde presented themselves; and still more than that, 
he felt a remorse of conscience, the scruples of which 
began from that time to rise up against him. 

In the midst of this perplexity he opened his heart 
to Lord Falmouth, and consulted with him what 
method he ought to pursue. He could not have applied 
to a better man for his own interests, nor to a worse 
for Miss Hyde's; for at first Falmouth maintained 
not only that he was not married, but that it was even 
impossible that he could ever have formed such a 
thought ; that any marriage was invalid for him, which 
was made without the King's consent, even if the 
party was a suitable match; but that it was a mere 
jest, even to think of the daughter of an insignificant 
lawyer, whom the favour of his sovereign had lately 
made a peer of the realm, without any noble blood, 
and chancellor, without any capacity; that as for his 
scruples, he had only to give ear to some gentlemen 
whom he could introduce, who would thoroughly in- 
form him of Miss Hyde's conduct before he became 
acquainted with her; and provided he did not tell 



178 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

them that he really was married, he would soon have 
sufficient grounds to come to a determination. 

The Duke of York consented, and Lord Falmouth, 
having assembled both his council and his witnesses, 
conducted them to his Royal Highness's cabinet, after 
having instructed them how to act. These gentlemen 
were the Earl of Arran, Jermyn, Talbot, and Kille- 
grew,^ all men of honour; but who infinitely preferred 

® Henry or " Harry " Killigrew, eldest son of Thomas Killigrew, 
by Cecilia Crofts, daughter of Sir John Crofts (Maid of Honour 
to Queen Henrietta Maria), the court wit and dramatic author, 
Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, and afterwards 
to Charles H., whom he attended the night before the fatal apo- 
plectic seizure (vide King Monmouth). Both he and his brother 
Charles (born December 1655) succeeded their father as Master 
of the Revels. Henry Killigrew was born 9th April 1637. He 
married, in 1662, Lady Mary Savage, daughter of John, second 
Earl Rivers of Rock Savage, Cheshire (Maid of the Privy Cham- 
ber to the Queen). Pepys describes him as one of the most 
notorious rogues in town, and the King, writing to his sister 
Henrietta (17th October 1668), warns her to "believe not one 
word he sayes of us heere, for he is a most notorious lyar and 
do'es not want witt to sett forth his storyes pleasantly enough " 
(Madame, by Julia Cartwright, pp. 273-274). One of these 
stories procured his disgrace at Court, in October 1666. He was 
banished for " raw words spoken against a lady of pleasure " 
(Hist. M.S. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 485. See also Pepys's Diary, 
21 st October 1666. In the Verney Papers of 19th March 1667-8 
a story is current of Killigrew opiating a mother and daughter 
and ravishing the latter for which he was condemned to be 
hanged, but by the intercession ^ of the Queen Mother, and 
Madame (Duchess of Orleans), it was altered to banishm'ent, 
evidently to France, for we find him returning to England with 
the Duke of Monmouth shortly afterwards, though not to favour 
at Court. Pepys encountered him among some boon companions 
at Fox Hall, 30th May 1668, "ready to take hold of every woman 
that came by them" — "their mad bawdy talk did make my 
heart ake." 

A fray between Buckingham and Killigrew in the Duke's The- 
atre on the 20th July 1667 is mentioned by Pepys on the 22nd; 
"The Duke of Buckingham did soundly beat and take away 
his sword, and make a fool of, till the fellow prayed him to 
spare his life." Further particulars appear in the Verney MSS. 
" H. Killigrew being in the next box to the Duke of Buckingham 
at a play, drolled with him and made fun at him,^ and spake 
scurry language at him, insomuch that the Duke told him he might 



\ COUNT DE GRAMONT 179 

the Duke of York's interest to Miss Hyde's reputation, 
and who, besides, were greatly dissatisfied, as well as 
the whole Court, at the insolent authority of the 
Prime Minister. 

The Duke having told them, after a sort of pream- 
ble, that although they could not be ignorant of his af- 
fection for Miss Hyde, yet they might be unacquainted 
with the engagements his tenderness for her had 
induced him to contract; that he thought himself 
obliged to perform all the promises he had made her ; 
but as the innocence of persons of her age was gener- 
ally exposed to Court scandal, and as certain reports, 
whether false or true, had been spread abroad on the 
subject of her conduct, he conjured them as his friends, 
and charged them upon their duty, to tell him sincerely 
everything they knew upon the subject, since he was 
resolved to make their evidence the rule of his conduct 
towards her. They all appeared rather reserved at 
first, and seemed not to dare to give their opinions 
upon an affair of so serious and delicate a nature ; but 
the Duke of York having renewed his entreaties, each 

govern his tongue and his face better. Killigrew went out of the 
box and would have had one Vaughan to have carried him a 
challenge, but he refusing to do it in that place, he returned and 
stroke the Duke twice on the head with his sword in the scab- 
bard, and then ran away most nobly over the boxes and forms, 
and the Duke after him, and cut him Well favouredly, he crying, 
* Good your Grace, spare my life,' and fell down, some say, to 
beg for his life, but certainly the Duke kicked him. The Duke 
lost his wig in the pursuit for a while" (Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 
7, App. p. 486) . From the same we learn that Killigrew was 
suspected of stabbing his servant while drunk in a room next the 
King's (ibid. p. 468), 8th February 1676-7. 

The attack upon Killigrew in May 1669, owing to his boasted 
favours of the Countess of Shrewsbury, is m'entioned later 
(p. 346.) 

He is said to have left two sons by a second and third wife: 
Henry, a major in the Dragoons, and Thomas, an ensign or lieu- 
tenant (see Althorp Memoirs, p. 28). The date of his death is 
unknown. He was living in 1694, wh'en he still held the post of 
Master of the Revels. 



i8o THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

began to relate the particulars of what he knew, and 
perhaps of more than he knew, of poor Miss Hyde; 
nor did they omit any circumstance necessary to 
strengthen the evidence. For instance the Earl of 
Arran, who spoke first, deposed, that in the gallery 
at Honslaerdyk, where the Countess of Ossory, his 
sister-in-law, and Jermyn, were playing at nine-pins, 
Miss Hyde, pretending to be sick, retired to a chamber 
at the end of the gallery; that he, the deponent, had 
followed her, and having cut her lace, to give a greater 
probability to the pretence of the vapours, he had 
acquitted himself to the best of his abilities, both to 
assist and to console her. 

Talbot^" said, that she had made an appointment 
with him in the Chancellor's cabinet, while he was in 
council; and that, not paying so much attention to 
what was upon the table as to what they were engaged 
in, they had spilled a bottle full of ink upon a despatch 
of four pages, and that the King's monkey, which was 
blamed for this accident, had been a long time in dis- 
grace. 

"Richard (usually called "Dick") Talbot, Earl and titular 
Duke of Tyrconnel, the youngest son of Sir William Talbot, born 
1630. Whfen in the service of the Duke of York prior to the 
Restoration, he was concerned in royalist plots, indeed, sus- 
pected of being implicated in a scheme to assassinate Cromwell, 
by whom he was arrested, but he effected his escape to Brussels, 
and many believed he had purchased his freedom by treachery 
to his original cause. At the Restoration he was made Gentle- 
man of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York, whose amours, ac- 
cording to Burnet (Own Time, i, 227), he assisted. On James's 
accession he took command of the^ army in Ireland, and was 
created Earl, made Privy Councillor in January 1686-7, and Vice- 
roy and Lord Deputy. After the abdication, when James landed 
at Kinsale, Talbot escorted him in state to Dublin Castle, and 
strongly advisfed him to continue in the capital. During James's 
sojourn he was created Duke. After the siege of Limerick, he 
followed the exiled King to France, afterwards returning to Ire- 
land as Lord Lieutenant (January 1690-1), and died of apoplexy 
six months afterwards (14th August). He was buried in Lim'er- 
ick Cathedral, but there is no commemorative stone. In appear- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT i8i 

Jermyn mentioned many places where he had 
received long and favourable audiences; however, all 
these articles of accusation amounted only to some 
delicate familiarities, or at most, to what is generally 
denominated the innocent part of an intrigue; but 
Killigrew, who wished to surpass these trivial deposi- 
tions, boldly declared that he had had the honour of 
being upon the most intimate terms with her. He was 
of a sprightly and witty humour, and had the art of 
telling a story in the most entertaining manner, by the 
graceful and natural turn he could give it. 

The Duke of York found this last accusation greatly 
out of bounds, being convinced he himself had suffi- 
cient proofs of the contrary; he therefore returned 
thanks to these officious informers for their frankness, 
ordered them to be silent for the future upon what 
they had been telling him, and immediately passed 
into the King's apartment. 

As soon as he had entered the cabinet. Lord Fal- 
mouth, who had followed him, related what had passed 
to the Earl of Ossory, whom he met in the presence 
chamber. They strongly suspected what was the sub- 
ject of the conversation of the two brothers, as it was 
long ; and the Duke of York appeared to be in such agi- 
tation when he came out, that they no longer doubted 
that the result had been unfavourable for poor Miss 
Hyde. Lord Falmouth began to be affected for her 
disgrace, and to relent that he had been concerned in 
it, when the Duke of York told him and the Earl of 

ance he was tall, handsome, and commanding, but grew corpulent 
and unwieldy in later life. He had no genius for arms, but was 
unmistakably brave, and had plenty of common-sense, though he 
was both vain and cunning (see Memoirs of Duke of Berwick, 
also Clarendon and Rochester Correspondence). Lord Clarendon 
says he had the Duke of York's confidence to such a degree, 
and in his s'ecret services so many scandalous circumstances were 
the result, that he (Clarendon) persuaded the Duke to withdraw 
his patronage (see Diet, of Nat. Biography, vol. Iv. pp. 331-332). 



i82 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Ossory to meet him in about an hour's time at the 
Chancellor's. 

They were rather surprised that he should have the 
cruelty himself to announce such a melancholy piece 
of news. They found his Royal Highness at the ap- 
pointed hour in Miss Hyde's chamber: a few tears 
trickled down her cheeks, which she endeavoured to 
restrain. The Chancellor, leaning against the wall, 
appeared to them to be puffed up with something, 
which they did not doubt was rage and despair. The 
Duke of York said to them, with that serene and pleas- 
ant countenance with which men generally announce 
good news: "As you are the two men of the Court 
whom I most esteem, I am desirous you should first 
have the honour of paying your compliments to the 
Duchess of York: there she is." 

Surprise was of no use, and astonishment was un- 
seasonable on the present occasion. They were, how- 
ever, so greatly possessed with both surprise and 
astonishment, that in order to conceal it they imme- 
diately fell on their knees to kiss her hand, which she 
gave to them with as much majesty as if she had been 
used to it all her life." 

The next day the news was made public," and the 
whole Court was eager to pay her that respect, from a 
sense of duty, which in the end became very sincere. 

The petits-maitres who had spoken against her, see- 
ing their intentions disappointed, were not a little 
embarrassed. Women are seldom accustomed to for- 
give injuries of this nature; and, if they promise them- 

" Clarendon, says Lord Falmouth (then Sir Charles Berkeley) , 
declared " for the Duke's sake he would be content to marry her, 
though he well knew the familiarity the Duke had with her. This 
he afterwards declared to be false, and prayed for forgiveness 
on the plea that the assertion was made out of pure devotion to 
the Duke." See also Pepys's Diary, loth December 1660. 

^^See footnote, p. 92. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 183 

selves the pleasure of revenge, when they gain the 
power they seldom forget it. In the present case, how- 
ever, the fears of these petits-maitres were their only 
punishment. 

The Duchess of York, being fully informed of all 
that was said in the cabinet concerning her, instead of 
showing the least resentment, studied to distinguish, 
by all manner of kindness and good offices, those who 
had attacked her in so sensible a part ; nor did she ever 
mention it to them, but in order to praise their zeal, 
and to tell them "that nothing was a greater proof of 
the attachment of a man of honour, than his being 
more solicitous for the interest of his friend or master 
than for his own reputation" : a remarkable example 
of prudence and moderation, not only for the fair sex, 
but even for those men who value themselves most 
upon their philosophy. , 

The Duke of York, having quieted his conscience 
by the declaration of his marriage, thought that he was 
entitled, by this generous effort, to give way a little to 
his inconstancy. He therefore immediately seized 
upon whatever he could first lay his hands upon : this 
was Lady Carnegy,''^ who had been in several other 
hands. She was still tolerably handsome, and her dis- 

" Anne, daughter of William, fourth Marquis and second Duke 
of Hamilton, who was mortally wounded at the battle of Wor- 
cester. She was one of five daughters. Her mother was Eliza- 
beth, daughter of James, Earl of Dirleton. Philip,^ second Earl 
of Chesterfield, undoubtedly was carrying on an intrigue with 
this lady in 1657, at the same time as his liaison with Barbara 
Villiers, afterwards Lady Castlemaine. A letter addressed for 
these two, making an appointment at Ludgate Hill, is among the 
Earl's letters, (see "Letters of Philip, Earl of Chesterfield"). 
It appears from another letter that the mother sent her daughter 
Anne to Windsor owing to some discovery in which Chesterfield 
was involved. The following year Lady Anne sent the Earl an 
intimation that she could not bid him farevy^ell as she would have 
wished, but points out that, " you may give me some adieus with 
your eyes, since it is to be done noe other way" (ibid.). She 
afterwards became the wife of Lord Carnegie, who, on his father's 



i84 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

position, naturally inclined to tenderness, did not 
oblige her new lover long to languish. Everything 
coincided with their wishes for some time. Lord 
Carnegy, her husband, was in Scotland ; but his father 
dying suddenly, he as suddenly returned with the 
title of Southesk, which his wife detested; but which 
she took more patiently than she received the news 
of his return. Some private intimation had been given 
him of the honour that was done him in his absence; 
nevertheless, he did not show his jealousy at first; 
but as he was desirous to be satisfied of the reality 
of the fact, he kept a strict watch over his wife's 
actions. 

The Duke of York and her ladyship had, for some 
time, been upon such terms of intimacy, as not to pass 
their time in frivolous amusements ; however, the hus» 
band's return obliged them to maintain some de- 
corum. He therefore never went to her house, but 
in form, that is to say, always accompanied by some 
friend or other, to give his amours at least the appear- 
ance of a visit. 

About this time Talbot** returned from Portugal. 
This connection had taken place during his absence; 
and without knowing who Lady Southesk was, he 
had been informed that his master was in love with 
her. 

A few days after his arrival, he was carried, merely 
to keep up appearances, to her house by the Duke ; and 
after being introduced, and some compliments having 
been paid on both sides, he thought it his duty to give 
his Royal Highness an opportunity to pay his compli- 
ments, and accordingly retired into the ante-chamber, 

death, became Earl of Southesk. Pepys mentions seeing her at 
the Duke of York's playhouse on 3rd December 1668: "We sat 
under the boxes and saw the fine ladies ; among others my Lady 
Kerneguy, who is most devilishly painted. She died in 1681. 
"Afterwards Duke of Tyrconnel (see note, p. 180). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 185 

which looked into the street, and placed himself at the 
window to view the people as they passed. 

He was one of the best-meaning men in the world 
on such occasions; but was so subject to forgetfulness, 
and absence of mind, that"* he once forgot, and left 
behind him at London, a complimentary letter which 
the Duke had given him for the Infanta of Portugal, 
and never recollected it till he was going to his 
audience. 

He stood sentry, as we have before said, very 
attentive to his instructions, when he saw a coach stop 
at the door, without being in the least concerned at it, 
and still less, at a man whom he saw get out of it, 
and whom he immediately heard coming upstairs. 

The devil, who ought to be civir upon such occa- 
sions, forgot himself in the present instance, and 
brought up Lord Southesk in propria persona. His 
Royal Highnesses equipage had been sent home, be- 
cause my lady had assured him that her husband was 
gone to see a bear and a bull baitings an entertainment 
in which he took great delight," and from whence he 
seldom returned until it was very late; so that South- 
esk, not seeing any equipage at the door, little imag- 
ined that he had such good company in his house ; but 
if he was surprised to see Talbot carelessly lolling 
in his wife's ante-chamber, his surprise was soon over. 
Talbot, who had not seen him since they were in 
Flanders, and never supposing that he had changed 
his name : "Welcome, Carnegy, welcome, my good fel- 
low," said he, giving him his hand ; "where the devil 
have you been, that I have never been able to set eyes 

*°Upon a Journey to Lisbon (Vizetelly's translation). 

'^Cautious (ibid.). 

" Evelyn and Pepys give a good description of the bull-baiting 
in the Bear Garden at Southwark. Both diarists appear to have 
been disgusted at this brutal sport (see Evelyn, i6th June 1670, 
and Pepys, 14th August 1666). 



i86 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

on you since we were at Brussels? What business 
brought you here ? Do you likewise wish to see Lady 
Southesk? If this is your intention, my poor friend, 
you may go away again ; for I must inform you, the 
Duke of York is in love with her, and I will tell you 
in confidence, that, at this very time, he is in her 
chamber." 

Southesk, confounded, as one may suppose, had no 
time to answer all these fine questions. Talbot, there- 
fore, attended him downstairs as his friend; and, as 
his humble servant, advised him to seek for a mistress 
elsewhere. Southesk, not knowing what else to do at 
that time, returned to his coach; and Talbot, over- 
joyed at the adventure, impatiently waited for the 
Duke's return, that he might acquaint him with it ; but 
he was very much surprised to find that the story 
afforded no pleasure to those who had the principal 
share in it ; and his greatest concern was, that Carnegy 
had changed his name, as if only to draw him into such 
a confidence. 

This accident broke off a commerce which the Duke 
of York did not much regret ; and indeed it was happy 
for him that he became indifferent; for the traitor 
Southesk meditated a revenge," whereby, without 

*^ Referring to this Pepys says: "Her (Lady Carnegy's) Lord 
finding her and the Duke of York, at the King's first coming in, 
too kind, did get it out of her that he did dishonour him, and 
so bid her continue, . . . which is the most pernicious and full 
piece of revenge that ever I heard of: and he at this day owns 
it with great glory, and lookes upon the Duke of York and the 
world with great content in the ampleness of his revenge" 
{Diary, 6th April 1668). A similar story is related by Oldys in 
his MS. Annotations on Langbaine's Dramatic Poets of Sir John 
Denham, Burnet, however, refers to the episode as follows: 
*'K story was set about, and generally believed, that the Earl of 
Southesk, that had married a daughter of the Duke of Hani- 
ilton's suspecting some familiarities between the Duke and his 
wife, had taken a sure method to procure a disease to himself, 
which he communicated to his wife, and was, by that means, sent 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 187 

using either assassination or poison, he would have 
obtained some satisfaction upon those who had injured 
him, if the connectior had continued any longer. 

Lady Robarts" was then in the zenith of her glory. 
Her beauty was striking; yet, notwithstanding the 
brightness of the finest complexion, with all the bloom 
of youth, and with every requisite for inspiring desire, 
she nevertheless was not attractive. The Duke of 
York, however, would probably have been successful, 
if difficulties, almost insurmountable, had not dis- 
appointed his good intentions. Lord Robarts,^" her 
husband, was an old, snarling, troublesome, peevish 
fellow, in love with her to distraction, and, to complete 
her misery, a perpetual attendant on her person. 

She perceived his Royal Highness's attachment to 
her and seemed as if she was inclined to be grateful. 
This redoubled his eagerness, and every outward mark 

round till it came to the Duchess. Lord Southesk was, for some 
years, not ill pleased to have this believed. It looked like a peculiar 
strain of revenge, with which he seemed much delighted. But 
I know he has, to some of his friends, denied the whole of the 
story very solemnly" (History of His Own Time, vol. i. p. 319). 
[The Earl of Southesk informs me there is no allusion to this 
evident fiction in any of the letters or papers in the charter room 
at Kinnaird Castle. — A. F.] 

" Probably Letitia Isabella, second wife of John, second Lord 
Robartes, eldest son of John Earl of Radnor, whom he succeeded. 
She was the daughter of Sir John Smith. Pepys mentions her 
(27th April 1668) and her daughter, " a very fine-skinned lady," 
with whom he danced at Lord Crewe's. 

***John, second Lord Robartes, afterwards Viscount Bodmin 
and Earl of Radnor (1679), Lord Privy Seal from 1661 to 1673, 
Deputy, and afterwards Lord Lieutenant of Ireland. Pepys fre- 
quently mentions him, and speaks of him as a bad business man 
and a taskmaster. Clarendon says Lord Robartes was proud, im- 
perious, and morose by nature. " He had parts, which in council 
and parliament were very troublesome; for, of all the men 
alive, who had so few friends, he had the most followers. They 
who conversed most with him knew him to have many humours 
which were very intolerable ; they who were but little acquainted 
with him took him to be a man of much knowledge, and called 
his morosity gravity" (Continuation of Clarendon^ p. 102.) 



i88 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

of tenderness he could possibly show her; but the 
watchful husband redoubling his zeal and assiduity, as 
he found the approaches advance, every art was prac- 
tised to render him tractable. Several attacks were 
made upon his avarice and his ambition. Those who 
possessed the greatest share of his confidence, insin- 
uated to him that it was his own fault if Lady Robarts, 
who was so worthy of being at Court, was not re- 
ceived into some considerable post, either about the 
Queen or the Duchess. He was offered to be made 
Lord Lieutenant of the county where his estate was; 
or to have the management of the Duke of York's 
revenues in Ireland, of which he should have the en- 
tire disposal, provided he immediately set out to take 
possession of his charge; and having accomplished it, 
he might return as soon as ever he thought proper. 

He perfectly well understood the meaning of these 
proposals, and was fully apprised of the advantages he 
might reap from them. In vain did ambition and 
avarice hold out their allurements; he was deaf to all 
their temptations, nor could ever the old fellow be 
persuaded to be made a cuckold. It is not always an 
aversion to, or a dread of this distinction, which pre- 
serves us from it. Of this her husband was very 
sensible ; therefore, under the pretence of a pilgrimage 
to Saint Winifred, the virgin and martyr, who was 
said to cure women of barrenness, he did not rest until 
fehe highest mountains in Wales were between his wife 
and the person who had designed to perform this 
miracle in London, after his departure. 

The Duke was for some time entirely taken up 
with the pleasures of the chase, and only now and 
then engaged in those of love; but his taste having 
undergone a change in this particular, and the remem- 
brance of Lady Robarts wearing off by degrees, his 
eyes and wishes were turned towards Miss Brooke; 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 189 

and It was In the height of this pursuit that Lady Ches- 
terfield threw herself Into his arms, as we shall see 
by resuming the sequel of her adventures. 

The Earl of Bristol,'' ever restless and ambitious, 

^ George Digby, second Earl of Bristol, born 1612, succeeded to 
the title in 1653 (the first Earl, James I.'s Ambassador to Madrid, 
endeavoured in vain to bring about the Spanish match with 
Prince Charles in 1623). 

There are several allusions in Pepys to the Earl's deadly ani- 
mosity to Clarendon and of his unsuccessful impeachments 
against the Lord Chancellor in the House of Lords, by which he 
incurred the King's displeasure. On 17th March 1663-4 the diarist 
records how a guard was s-ent to arrest him at his house at 
Wimbledon, but he had effected his escape. This mansion was 
sold to him by the Queen Mother in 1661, and Evelyn went there 
on 17th February 1662 "to help contrive the garden after the 
moderne." The library, according to Evelyn, 20th December 
1677, consisted much of "judicial astrologie, romances, and 
trifles." The house was pulled down about 171 7. Digby sold this 
Wimbledon House to the Lord Treasurer and purchased Buck- 
ingham House, Chelsea (afterwards known as Beaufort House, 
and pulled down in 1740), when the fine Inigo Jones gateway 
was removed to Chiswick. Evelyn describes the latter as " large 
but ill-contrived." and speaks of the fine collection of pictures by 
Titian and Vandyke (among the latter the portrait of the Earl 
now at Althorp and reproduced here). His town house in Queen 
Str'eet, Lincoln's Inn, with its long gallery and gardens, is also 
mentioned by the diarist (26th May 1671). 

Though a man of extraordinary ability, Digby was utterly void 
of principle. Clarendon says he pandered to the tastes of "the 
Merry Monarch " by doing all that might be acceptable,^ and con- 
triving such meetings and jollities as he was pleased with, which 
description quite accords with Gramont's account (Clarendon's 
Continuation, p. 208). In his Royal and Noble Authors, Walpole 
says : " His life was one contradiction. He wrote against popery 
and embraced it; he was a zealous opposer of the Court and a 
sacrifice to it. . . . With great parts he always hurt himself and 
his friends; with romantic bravery he was always an unsuc- 
cessful commander. He spoke for the Test Act, though a Roman 
Catholic, and addicted himself to astrology on the birthday of 
true philosophy" (vol. ii. p. 25). He certainly was one of the 
greatest orators of the day, and was th'e author of several plays 
and poems of note (see Diet of Nat. Biography, xv. 52-55). The 
Earl died (20th March 1677) at his house in Ch'elsea, but there 
is no record in the church register of his burial (Lysons' En- 
virons). With the death of the Earl's elder son, John, third 
Earl, the titles of Digby and Bristol became extinct. 



190 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

had put in practice every art to possess himself of the 
King's favour. As this is the same Digby whom 
Count Bussy'' mentions in his annals, it will be suffi- 
cient to say that he was not at all changed : he knew 
that love and pleasure had possession of a master, 
whom he himself governed, in defiance of the Chan- 
cellor;^^ thus he was continually giving entertainments 
at his house; and luxury and elegance seemed to rival 
each other in those nocturnal feasts, which always lead 
to other enjoyments. The two Miss. Brookes,'* his 
relations, were always of those parties ; they were both 
formed by nature to excite love in others, as well as to 
be susceptible of it themselves ; they were just what the 
King wanted. The Earl, from this commencement, 
was beginning to entertain a good opinion of his proj- 
ect, when Lady Castlemaine, who had lately gained 
entire possession of the King's heart, was not in a 
humour, at that time, to share it with another, as she 
did very indiscreetly afterwards, despising Miss 
Stewart. As soon, therefore, as she received intima- 
tion of these secret practices, under pretence of attend- 
ing the King in his parties, she entirely disconcerted 
them; so that the Earl was obliged to lay aside his 
projects, and Miss Brooke to discontinue her advances. 
The King did not even dare to think any more on 
this subject; but his brother was pleased to look after 
what he neglected; and Miss Brooke accepted the 
offer of his heart, until it pleased Heaven to dispose 
of her otherwise, which happened soon after, in the 
following manner. 

Sir John Denham,'" loaded with wealth as well as 
years, had passed his youth in the midst of those 

*^ Roger de Bussi-Rabutin. 

^^ See Continuation of Life, by Lord Clarendon, p. 208. 

^*See footnote, p. 102. 
^ ^ Sir John Denham, h. 1615, oh, 1669, Surveyor to the Crown, 
n which position he succeeded Inigo Jones. Burlington House 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 191 

pleasures which people at that age indulge in without 
restraint; he was one of the brightest geniuses Eng- 
land ever produced, for wit and humour, and for 
brilliancy of composition: satirical and free in his 
poems, he spared neither frigid writers, nor jealous 
husbands, nor even their wives : every part abounded 
with the most poignant wit, and the most entertain- 
ing stories; but his most delicate and spirited raillery 
turned generally against matrimony; and, as if he 
wished to confirm, by his own example, the truth of 
what he had written in his youth, he married, at the 
age of seventy-nine, this Miss Brooke of whom we 
are speaking, who was only eighteen.^^ 

The Duke of York had rather neglected her for 
some time before; but the circumstance of so unequal 
a match rekindled his ardour; and she, on her part, 
suffered him tO' entertain hopes of an approaching 
bliss, which a thousand considerations had opposed 
before her marriage. She wished to belong to the 
Court; and for the promise of being made lady of 
the bedchamber to the Duchess, she was upon the 
point of making him another promise, or of imme- 
diately performing it, if required, when, in the middle 
of this treaty. Lady Chesterfield was tempted, by her 
evil genius, to rob her of her conquest, in order to 
disturb all the world. 

However, as Lady Chesterfield could not see the 

was built by him for Lord Burlington (vide Pepys' Diary, 28th 
September 1668), who afterwards made extensive alterations. 
Sir John was a poet of some distinction (vide his " Cooper's Hill," 
and Poems on State Affairs). 

^* Sir John Denham's union with Margaret* Brooke (his second 
wife) took place 25th May 1665 (register Westminster Abbey). 
Far from being seventy-nine, his age was fifty at this time. 
About 1767 he had a period of madness, from which he after- 
wards recovered (vide Temple's Works, vol. i. p. 484, and Butler's 
Posthumous Works, vol. ii. p. 155). 

^ She is sometimes named Elizabeth z'n error. 



192? THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

Duke of York, except in public assemblies, she was 
under the necessity of making- the most extravagant 
advances, in order to seduce him from his former con- 
nection; and as he was the most unguarded ogler of 
his time, the whole Court was informed of the intrigue 
before it was well begun. 

Those who appeared the most attentive to their 
conduct were not the least interested in it. Hamilton 
and Lord Chesterfield watched them narrowly; but 
Lady Denham, vexed that Lady Chesterfield should 
have stepped in before her, took the liberty of railing 
against her rival with the greatest bitterness. Hamil- 
ton had hitherto flattered himself that vanity alone had 
engaged Lady Chesterfield in this adventure; but he 
was soon undeceived, whatever her indifference might 
have been when she first commenced this intrigue. 
We often proceed farther than we at first intended, 
when we indulge ourselves in trifling liberties which 
we think of no consequence; for though perhaps the 
heart takes no part at the beginning, it seldom fails to 
be engaged in the end. 

The Court, as we have mentioned before, was an 
entire scene of gallantry and amusements, with all 
the politeness and magnificence which the inclinations 
of a Prince naturally addicted to tenderness and pleas- 
ure could suggest. The beauties were desirous of 
charming, and the men, endeavoured to please: all 
studied to set themselves off to the best advantage. 
Some distinguished themselves by dancing; others by 
show and magnificence; some by their wit, many by 
their amours, but few by their constancy. There was 
a certain Italian at Court, famous for the guitar.^ He 
had a genius for music, and he was the only man who 
could make anything of the guitar; his style of play 
was so full of grace and tenderness, that he would 
"Francesco Corbetta (Vizetelly*s translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 193 

have given harmony to the most discordant instru- 
ments. The truth is, nothing was so difficult as to 
play like this foreigner. The King's relish for his 
compositions had brought the instrument so much into 
vogue, that every person played upon it, well or ill; 
and you were as sure to see a guitar on a lady's toilet 
as rouge or patches. The Duke of York played upon 
it tolerably well, and the Earl of Arran like Francisco 
himself. This Francisco had composed a saraband, 
which either charmed or infatuated every person; for 
the whole guitarery at Court were trying at it ; and God 
knows what an universal strumming there was. The 
Duke of York, pretending not to be perfect in it, 
desired Lord Arran to play it to him. Lady Chester- 
field had the best guitar in England. The Earl of 
Arran, who was desirous of playing his best, con- 
ducted his Royal Highness to his sister's apartments: 
she was lodged at Court, at her father's, the Duke 
of Ormonde's; and this wonderful guitar was lodged 
there to. Whether this visit had been preconcerted or 
not, I do not pretend tO' say; but it is certain that 
they found both the lady and the guitar at home : they 
likewise found there Lord Chesterfield, so much sur- 
prised at this unexpected visit, that it was a consider- 
able time before he thought of rising from his seat to 
receive them with due respect. 

Jealousy, like a malignant vapour, now seized upon 
his brain: a thousand suspicions, blacker than ink, 
took possession of his imagination, and were contin- 
ually increasing; for, whilst the brother played upon 
the guitar to the Duke, the sister ogled and accom- 
panied him with her eyes, as if the coast had been 
clear, and no enemy to observe them. This saraband 
was at least repeated twenty times. The Duke declared 
it was played to perfection. Lady Chesterfield found 
fault with the composition; but her husband, who 



194 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

clearly perceived that he was the person played upon, 
thought it a most detestable piece. However, though 
he was in the last agony at being obliged to curb his 
passion while others gave a free scope to theirs, he 
was resolved to find out the drift of the visit; but it 
was not in his power; for having the honour to be 
Chamberlain to the Queen, a messenger came to re- 
quire his immediate attendance on her Majesty. His 
first thought was to pretend sickness; the second to 
suspect that the Queen, who sent for him at such an 
unseasonable time, was in the plot; but at last, after 
all the extravagant ideas of a suspicious man, and all 
the irresolutions of a jealous husband, he was obliged 
to go. 

We may easily imagine what his state of mind was 
when he arrived at the Palace. Alarms are to the 
jealous what disasters are to the unfortunate: they 
seldom come alone, but form a series of persecution. 
He was informed that he was sent for to attend the 
Queen at an audience she gave to seven or eight 
Muscovite ambassadors.** He had scarce begun to 
curse the Muscovites, when his brother-in-law ap- 
peared, and drew upon himself all the imprecations 
he bestowed upon the embassy. He no longer doubted 
his being in the plot with the two persons he had left 
together, and in his heart sincerely wished him such 
recompense for his good offices as such good offices 
deserved. It was with great difficulty that he restrained 
himself from immediately acquainting him what was 
his opinion of such conduct. He thought that what 
he had already seen was a sufficient proof of his 
wife's infidelity; but before the end of the very same 
day, some circumstances occurred which increased his 
suspicions, and persuaded him that they had taken 

^ They arrived towards the end of the year 1662 (see Evelyn's 
Diary, 29th December 1662, and Fepys' Diary, 5th January 1662-3). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 195 

advantage of his absence, and of the honourable 
officiousness of his brother-in-law. He passed, how- 
ever, that night with tranquillity; but the next morn- 
ing, being reduced to the necessity either of bursting 
or giving vent to his sorrows and conjectures, he did 
nothing but think and walk about the room until Park- 
time. He went to Court, seemed very busy, as if seek- 
ing for some person or other, imagining that people 
guessed at the subject of his uneasiness; he avoided 
everybody, but at length meeting with Hamilton, he 
thought he was the very man that he wanted; and, 
having desired him to take an airing with him in Hyde 
Park, he took him up in his coach, and they arrived at 
the Ring,'^ without a word having passed between them. 
Hamilton, who saw him as yellow as jealousy itself, 
and particularly thoughtful, imagined that he had just 
discovered what all the world had perceived long be- 
fore; when Chesterfield, after a broken, insignificant 
preamble, asked him how he succeeded with Lady Cas- 
tlemaine. Hamilton, who very well saw that he meant 
nothing by this question, nevertheless thanked him; 
and as he was thinking of an answer : "Your cousin," 
said the Earl, "is extremely coquettish, and I have 
some reason to suppose she is not so prudent as she 
ought to be.'^ Hamilton thought the last charge a 
little too severe ; and as he was endeavouring to refute 
it : "Good God !" said my lord, "you see, as well as the 
whole Court, what airs she gives herself. Husbands 
are always the last people that are spoken to about 
those affairs that concern them the most ; but they are 
not always the last to perceive it themselves. Though 
you have made me your confidant in other matters, 

^ A circular ride and promenade surrounded by trees (several 
of which still remain) mad'e in Charles I.'s reign, and partially 
destroyed when the Serpentine was formed in George II.'s time 
(see Cunningham's London). 

7 — ^Memoirs Vol. 4 



196 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

yet I am not at all surprised you have concealed this 
from me; but as I flatter myself with having some 
share in your esteem, I should be sorry you should 
think me such a fool as to be incapable of seeing, 
though I am so complaisant as not to express my 
sentiments: nevertheless, I find that affairs are now 
carried on with such barefaced boldness, that at length 
I find I shall be forced to take some course or other. 
God forbid that I should act the ridiculous part of a 
jealous husband : the character is odious ; but then I 
do not intend, through an excess of patience, to be 
made the jest of the town. Judge, therefore, from 
what I am going to tell you, whether I ought to sit 
down unconcerned, or whether I ought to take meas- 
ures for the preservation of my honour. 

"His Royal Highness honoured me yesterday by a 
visit to my wife." Hamilton started at this beginning. 
"Yes,*' continued the other, "he did give himself that 
trouble, and Lord Arran took upon himself that of 
bringing him. Do not you wonder that a man of his 
birth should act such a part ? What advancement can 
he expect from one who employs him in such base 
services? But we have long known him to be one of 
the silliest ceatures in England, with his guitar, and 
his other whims and follies." Chesterfield, after this 
short sketch of his brother-in-law's merit, began to 
relate the observations he had made during the visit, 
and asked Hamilton what he thought of his cousin 
Arran, who had so obligingly left them together. 
"This may appear surprising to you," continued he, 
"but hear me out, and judge whether I have reason to 
think that the close of ^is pretty visit passed in perfect 
innocence. Lady Chesterfield is amiable, it must be 
acknowledged ; but she is far from being such a miracle 
of beauty as she supposes herself. You know she has 
ugly feet ; but perhaps you are not acquainted that she 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 197 

has still worse legs." "Pardon me," said Hamilton, 
within himself; and the other, continuing the descrip- 
tion: *'Her legs," said his lordship, "are short and 
thick ; and, to remedy these defects as much as possible, 
she seldom wears any other than green stockings." 

Hamilton could not for his life imagine the drift 
of all this discourse, and Chesterfield, guessing his 
thoughts : "Have a little patience," said he. "I went 
yesterday to Miss Stewart's after the audience of those 
damned Muscovites. The King arrived there just 
before me ; and as if the Duke had sworn to pursue me 
wherever I went that day, he came in just after me. 
The conversation turned upon the extraordinary ap- 
pearance of the ambassadors. I know not where that 
fool Crofts*" had heard that all these Muscovites had 
handsome wives; and that all their wives had hand- 
some legs. Upon this the King maintained that no 
woman ever had such handsome legs as Miss Stewart ; 
and she, to prove the truth of his Majesty's assertion, 
with the greatest imaginable ease, immediately showed 
her legs above the knee. Some were ready to prostrate 
themselves, in order to adore its beauty; for indeed 
none can be handsomer; but the Duke alone began to 
criticise upon it. He contended that it was too slender, 
and that as for himself he would give nothing for a 
leg that was not thicker and shorter, and concluded by 
saying that no leg was worth anything without green 
stockings. Now this, in my opinion, was a sufficient 
demonstration that he had just seen green stockings,^ 
and had them fresh in his remembrance." 

Hamilton was at a loss what countenance to put on 

*" William, Lord Crofts of Saxham, h. 1658, oh. 1677 (vide 
footnote, p. 329). 

""There is nothing neater," says the French Ambassador 
Courtin, " than the feet and ankles of the English ladies,^ in their 
well-fitting shoes and silk stockings. They wear their skirts 
short; and I often see legs so well turned that a sculptor would 



198 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

during a narrative which raised in him nearly the same 
conjectures; he shrugged up his shoulders, and faintly- 
said that appearances were often deceitful ; that Lady 
Chesterfield had the foible of all beauties, who place 
their merit on the number of their admirers ; and what- 
ever airs she might imprudently have given herself, in 
order not to discourage his Royal Highness, there was 
no ground to suppose that she would indulge him in 
any greater liberties to engage him. But in vain was it 
that he endeavoured to give that consolation to his 
friend which he did not feel himself. Chesterfield 
plainly perceived he did not think of what he was 
saying; however, he thought himself much obliged to 
him for the interest he seemed to take in his concerns. 

Hamilton was in haste to go home to vent his spleen 
and resentment in a letter to his cousin. The style 
of this billet was very different from those which he 
formerly was accustomed to write to her. Reproaches, 
bitter expostulations, tenderness, menaces, and all the 
effusions of a lover who thinks he has reason to com- 
plain, composed this epistle, which, for fear of acci- 
dent, he went to deliver himself. 

Never did she before appear so lovely, and never did 
her eyes speak so kindly to him as at this moment. His 

like to mould them. Green silk stockings are modish. The 
garter, of which glimpses are often afforded, is below the knee, 
and in black velvet, with diamond buckles. Those who have no 
silk stockings to wear show a white skin smooth as satin. 
English women orefer being stockingless to wearing clumsy dis- 
figuring hosiery.'"— According to the Mss. Relation d'Angleterre, 
vol. cxxxvii. fol. 400. A foreign ambassador arrivmg m England 
called on Frances Stewart and asked to he allowed to see her 
leg, that he might report to his master that the fame of her 
calf and ankle had not been overrated (see Forneron s Louise de 
Keromlle), pp. 28, 161-2. Bolingbroke gives a glimpse of me 
freedom of the times (when it was no unusual thing for a maid 
of honour to receive her suitor in her bedroom) by saying that, 
when Churchill was courting the beautiful Sarah Jennings, one of 
his duties was to tie and untie her garters (see Wolseley s Marl- 
borough). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 199 

heart quite relented; but he was determined not to 
lose all the fine things he had said in his letter. In 
receiving it, she squeezed his hand: this action com- 
pletely disarmed him, and he would have given his 
life to have had his letter again. It appeared to him 
at this instant that all the grievances he complained 
of were visionary and groundless. He looked upon 
her husband as a madman and an impostor, and quite 
the reverse of what he supposed him to be a few min- 
utes before; but this remorse came a little too late. 
He had delivered his billet, and Lady Chesterfield had 
shown such impatience and eagerness to read it as soon 
as she had got it that all circumstances seemed to con- 
spire to justify her, and to confound him. She man- 
aged to get quit, some way or other, of some trouble- 
some visitors, to slip into her closet. He thought him- 
self so culpable that he had not the assurance to wait 
her return. He withdrew with the rest of the com- 
pany ; but he did not dare to appear before her the next 
day, to have an answer to his letter. However, he met 
her at Court ; and this was the first time, since the com- 
mencement of their amour, that he did not seek for 
her. He stood at a distance, with downcast looks, and 
appeared in such terrible embarrassment that his con- 
dition was sufficient to raise laughter or to cause pity, 
when Lady Chesterfield approaching, thus accosted 
him: "Confess," said she, "that you are in as foolish 
a situation as any man of sense can be. You wish 
you had not written to me; you are desirous of an 
answer; you hope for none; yet you equally wish for 
and dread it. I have, however, written you one." She 
had not time to say more ; but the few words she had 
spoken were accompanied with such an air, and such 
a look, as to make him believe that it was Venus with 
all her graces, who had addressed him. He was near 
her when she sat down to cards, and as he was puzzling 



200 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

himself to devise by what means he should get this 
answer, she desired him to lay her gloves and fan 
down somewhere. He took them, and with them the 
billet in question; and as he had perceived nothing 
severe or angry in the conversation he had with her, 
he hastened to open her letter, and read as follows : 

"Your transports are so ridiculous that it is doing 
you a favour to attribute them to an excess of tender- 
ness, which turns your head. A man, without doubt, 
must have a great inclination to be jealous to enter- 
tain such an idea of the person you mention. Good 
God ! what a lover to have caused uneasiness to a man 
of genius, and what a genius to have got the better of 
mine! Are not you ashamed to give any credit to 
the visions of a jealous fellow who brought nothing 
else with him from Italy ? It is possible that the story 
of the green stockings, upon which he has founded his 
suspicions, should have imposed upon you, accompanied 
as it is with such pitiful circumstances ? Since he has 
made you his confidant, why did not he boast of break- 
ing in pieces my poor harmless guitar? This exploit, 
perhaps, might have convinced you more than all the 
rest. Recollect yourself, and if you are really in love 
with me, thank fortune for a groundless jealousy, 
which diverts to another quarter the attention he 
might pay to my attachment for the most amiable and 
the most dangerous man at Court." 

Hamilton was ready to weep for joy at these en- 
dearing marks of kindness, of which he thought him- 
self so unworthy. He was not satisfied with kissing, 
in raptures, every part of this billet; he also kissed 
several times her gloves and her fan. Play being over. 
Lady Chesterfield received them from his hands, and 
read in his eyes the joy that her billet had raised in 
his heart. Nor was he satisfied with expressing his 
raptures only by looks. He hastened home, and wrote 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 201 

to her at least four times as much. How different w^s 
this letter from the other! Though perhaps not so 
well written; for one does not show so much wit in 
suing for pardon, as in venting reproaches, and it 
seldom happens that the soft languishing style of a 
love-letter is so penetrating as that of invective. 

Be that as it may, his peace was made. Their past 
quarrel gave new life to their correspondence; and 
Lady Chesterfield, to make him as easy as he had 
before been distrustful, expressed on every occasion a 
feigned contempt for his rival, and a sincere aversion 
for her husband. 

So great was his confidence in her, that he consented 
she should show in public some marks of attention to 
the Duke, in order to conceal as much as possible their 
private intelligence. Thus, at this time nothing dis- 
turbed his peace of mind, but his impatience of finding 
a favourable opportunity for the completion of his 
desires. He thought it was in her power to command 
it; but she excused herself on account of several diffi- 
culties which she enumerated to him, and which she 
was desirous he should, remove by his industry 
and attentions. 

This silenced his complaints; but whilst he was 
endeavouring to surmount these obstacles, still won- 
dering how it was possible that two persons who were 
so well disposed to each other, and who were agreed 
to make each other happy, could not put their designs 
in execution, accident discovered an unexpected ad- 
venture, which left him no room to doubt, either of the 
happiness of his rival, or of the perfidy of his mistress. 

Misfortunes often fall light when most feared; and 
frequently prove heaviest when merited, and when 
least suspected. Hamilton was in the middle of the 
most tender and passionate letter he had ever written 
to Lady Chesterfield, when her husband came to an- 



S02 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

nounce to him the particulars of this last discovery. 
He came so suddenly upon him, that he had only 
just time to conceal his amorous epistle among his 
other papers. His heart and mind were still so full of 
what he was writing to his cousin, that her husband's 
complaints against her, at first, were scarce attended 
to; besides, in his opinion, he had come in the most 
unfortunate moment on all accounts. 

He was, however, obliged to listen to him, and he 
soon entertained quite different sentiments. He ap- 
peared almost petrified with astonishment, while the 
Earl was relating to him circumstances of such an 
extravagant indiscretion, as seemed to him quite in- 
credible, notwithstanding the particulars of the fact. 
"You have reason to be surprised at it," said my lord, 
concluding his story; "but if you doubt the truth of 
what I tell you, it will be easy for you to find evidence 
that will convince you; for the scene of their tender 
familiarities was no less public than the room where 
the Queen plays at cards, which, while her Majesty 
was at play, was, God knows, pretty well crowded. 
Lady Denham was the first who discovered what they 
thought would pass unperceived in the crowd; and 
you may very well judge how secret she would keep 
such a circumstance. The truth is, she addressed her- 
self to me first of all, as I entered the room, to tell 
me that I should give my wife a little advice, as other 
people might take notice of what I might see myself, 
if I pleased.** 

"Your cousin was at play, as I before told you. 
The Duke was sitting next to her. I know not what 

^ Dates come in useful here to prove that Lady Denham could 
not have made this discovery. The Earl knew of his wife's 
intrigue with the Duke of York before ist Jan. 1662-3 (see Pepys, 
19th January 1662-3). Margaret Brooke also was not married 
until 25th May 1665 (see also footnote relating Lady Chester- 
field's removal from Court, p. 206). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 203 

was become of his hand; but I am sure that no one 
could see his arm below the elbow. I was standing 
behind them, just in the place that Lady Denham had 
quitted. The Duke, turning round, perceived me, and 
was so much disturbed at my presence, that he almost 
undressed my lady in pulling away his hand. I know 
not whether they perceived that they were discovered ; 
but of this I am convinced, that Lady Denham will 
take care that everybody shall know it. I must confess 
to you, that my embarrassment is so great, that I can- 
not find words to express what I now feel. I should 
not hesitate one moment what course to take, if I 
might be allowed to show my resentment against the 
person who has wronged me. As for her, I could 
manage her well enough, if, unworthy as she is of any 
consideration, I had not still some regard for an illus- 
trious family, that would be distracted were I to resent 
such an injury as it deserves. In this particular you 
are interested yourself. You are my friend, and I 
make you my confidant in an affair of the greatest 
imaginable delicacy : let us then consult together what 
is proper to be done in so perplexing and disagreeable 
a situation." 

Hamilton, if possible, more astonished, and more 
confounded than himself, was far from being in a 
proper state to afford him advice on the present oc- 
casion. He listened to nothing but jealousy, and 
breathed nothing but revenge; but these emotions 
being somewhat abated, in hopes that there might be 
calumny, or at least exaggeration in the charges 
against Lady Chesterfield, he desired her husband to 
suspend his resolutions, until he'* was more fully in- 
formed of the fact; assuring him, however, that if 
he found the circumstances such as he had related, he 
should regard and consult no other interest than his. 

^ Hamilton. 



204 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Upon this they parted ; and Hamilton found, on the 
first inquiry, that almost the whole Court was in- 
formed of the adventure, to which every one added 
something in relating it. Vexation and resentment 
inflamed his heart, and by degrees extinguished every 
remnant of his former passion. 

He might easily have seen her, and have made her 
such reproaches as a man is generally inclined to do on 
such occasions ; but he was too much enraged to enter 
into any detail which might have led to an explana- 
tion. He considered himself as the only person es- 
sentially injured in this affair; for he could never 
bring his mind to think that the injuries of the hus- 
band could be placed in competition with those of 
the lover. 

He hastened to Lord Chesterfield, in the transport 
of his passion, and told him that he had heard enough 
to induce him to give such advice as he should follow 
himself in the same situation, and that if he wished to 
save a woman so strongly prepossessed, and who per- 
haps had not yet lost all her innocence, though she had 
totally lost her reason, he ought not to delay one single 
instant, but immediately to carry her into the country 
with the greatest possible expedition, without allowing 
her the least time to recover her surprise. 

Lord Chesterfield readily agreed to follow his ad- 
vice, which he had already considered as the only 
counsel a friend could give him ; but his lady, who did 
not suspect he had made this last discovery of her 
conduct, thought he was joking with her when he told 
her to prepare for going into the country in two days. 
She was the more induced to think so as it was in the 
very middle of an extremely severe winter; but she 
soon perceived that he was in earnest; she knew from 
the air and manner of her husband that he thought he 
had sufficient reason to treat her in this imperious 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 205 

style ; and finding- all her relations serious and cold to 
her complaint, she had no hope left in this universally 
abandoned situation but in the tenderness of Hamilton. 
She imagined she should hear from him the cause of 
her misfortunes, of which she was still totally ignorant, 
and that his love would invent some means or other to 
prevent a journey, which she flattered herself would be 
even more affecting to him than to herself; but she 
was expecting pity from a crocodile. 

At last, when she saw the eve of her departure was 
come; that every preparation was made for a long 
journey; that she was receiving farewell visits in 
form, and that still she heard nothing from Hamilton, 
both her hopes and her patience forsook her in this 
wretched situation. A few tears perhaps might have 
afforded her some relief, but she chose rather to deny 
herself that comfort than to give her husband so much 
satisfaction. Hamilton's conduct on this occasion ap- 
peared to her unaccountable ; and as he still never came 
near her, she found means to convey to him the fol- 
lowing billet : 

"Is it possible that you should be one of those, who, 
without vouchsafing to tell me for what crime I am 
treated like a slave, suffer me to be dragged from 
society ? What means your silence and indolence in a 
juncture wherein your tenderness ought most particu- 
larly to appear, and actively exert itself? I am upon 
the point of departing, and am ashamed to think that 
you are the cause of my looking upon it with horror, 
as I have reason to believe that you are less concerned 
at it than any other person. Do, at least, let me know 
to what place I am to be dragged ; what is to be done 
with me within a wilderness ; and on what account you, 
like all the rest of the world, appear changed in your 
behaviour towards a person whom all the world could 
not oblige to change with regard to you, if your weak- 



2o6 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

ness or your ingratitude did not render you unworthy 
of her tenderness." 

This billet did but harden his heart, and make him 
more proud of his vengeance. He swallowed down 
full draughts of pleasure in beholding her reduced to 
despair, being persuaded that her grief and regret for 
her departure were on account of another person. He 
felt uncommon satisfaction in having a share in tor- 
menting her, and was particularly pleased with the 
scheme he had contrived to separate her from a rival, 
upon the very point perhaps of being made happy. 
Thus fortified as he was against his natural tenderness, 
with all the severity of jealous resentment, he saw her 
depart with an indifference which he did not even en- 
deavour to conceal from her. This unexpected treat- 
ment, joined to the complication of her other mis- 
fortunes, had almost in reality plunged her into 
despair. 

The Court was filled with the story of this ad- 
venture; nobody was ignorant of the occasion of this 
sudden departure,^ but very few approved of Lord 

^ On 3rd November 1662 Pepys hears from the Duke of York's 
surgeon Pierce, " how the Duke of York is smitten in love with 
my Lady Chesterfield (a virtuous lady, daughter to my Lord of 
Ormond), and so much that the Duchess of York hath com- 
plained to the King and her father about it, and my Lady 
Chesterfield is gone into the country for it." It must have been 
only a temporary removal from London, for, according to Gra- 
mont, she was in town when the Russian Ambassador was in 
London in December (1662) and the following January. On 19th 
January 1662-3 Pepys says : " This day by Dr. Clarke I was told 
the occasion of my Lord Chesterfield's going and taking his lady 
(my Lord Ormond's daughter) from Court. It seems he not 
only hath been long jealous of the Duke of York, but did find 
them two talking together, though there were others in the room, 
and the lady by all opinions a most good, virtuous woman. He, 
the next day (of which the Duke was warned by somebody that 
saw the passion my Lord Chesterfield was^in the night before) 
went and told the Duke how much he did apprehend himself 
wrong'ed, in his picking out his lady of the whole Court to be 
the subject of his dishonour; which the Duke did answer with 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 207 

Chesterfield's conduct. In England they looked with 
astonishment upon a man who could be so uncivil as 
to be jealous of his wife; and in the city of London 
it was a prodigy, till that time unknown, to see a hus- 
band have recourse to violent means to prevent what 
jealousy fears, and what it always deserves. They 
endeavoured, however, to excuse poor Lord Chester- 
field, as far as they could safely do it, without incur- 
ring the public odium, by laying all the blame on his 
bad education. This made all the mothers vow to God 
that none of their sons should ever set a foot in Italy, 
lest they should bring back with them that infamous 
custom of laying restraint upon their wives. 

As this story for a long time took up the attention 
of the Court, the Chevalier de Gramont, who was not 
thoroughly acquainted with all the particulars, in- 
veighed more bitterly than all the citizens of London 
put together against this tyranny ; and it was upon this 
occasion that he produced new words to that fatal 
saraband which had unfortunately so great a share in 
the adventure. The Chevalier passed for the author; 
but if Saint-Evremond had any part in the composi- 
tion, it certainly was greatly inferior to his other 
performances, as the reader will see in the following 
chapter. 

great calmness, not seeming to understand the reason of com- 
plaint, and that was all that passed: but my Lord did presently- 
pack his lady into the country in Derbyshire near the Peake, 
which is become a proverb at Court to send a man's wife to 
the Devil's-Peake when she vexes him." Lord Chesterfield and 
his wife set out for his country seat (Bretby) 12th May 1663 
(vide books in the Lord Steward's office), where he remained 
with his wife throughout the summer (see Letters of Philip, Earl 
of Chesterfield, p. 25). 



CHAPTER IX 

EVERY man who believes that his honour de- 
I pends upon that of his wife is a fool who 
' torments himself, and drives her to despair; 
but he who, being naturally jealous, has the additional 
misfortune of loving his wife, and who expects that 
she should only live for him, is a perfect madman, 
whom the torments of hell have actually taken hold 
of in this world, and whom nobody pities. All rea- 
soning and observation on these unfortunate circum- 
stances attending wedlock concur in this, that precau- 
tion is vain and useless before the evil, and revenge 
odious afterwards. 

The Spaniards, who tyrannise over their wives, 
more by custom than from jealousy, content them- 
selves with preserving the niceness of their honour by 
duennas, grates, and locks. The Italians, who are 
wary in their suspicions, and vindictive in their resent- 
ments, pursue a different line of conduct: some satisfy 
themselves with keeping their wives under locks which 
they think secure ; others by ingenious precautions ex- 
ceed whatever the Spaniards can invent for confining 
the fair sex ; but the generality are of opinion, that in 
either unavoidable danger or in manifest transgres- 
sion, the surest way is to assassinate. 

But, ye courteous and indulgent nations, who, far 

from admitting these savage and barbarous customs, 

give full liberty to your dear ribs,* and commit the 

care of their virtue to their own discretion, you pass 

* And better halves (Vizetelly's translation). 

208 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 209 

your peaceful days without alarms or strife, in all the 
enjoyments of domestic indolence! 

It was certainly some evil genius that induced Lord 
Chesterfield to distinguish himself from his patient 
and good-natured countrymen, and ridiculously to 
afford the world an opportunity of examining into 
the particulars of an adventure which would perhaps 
never have been known beyond the precincts of the 
Court, and which would everywhere have been for- 
gotten in less than a month ; but now, as soon as ever 
he had turned his back, in order to march away with 
his prisoner, and the ornaments she was supposed to 
have bestowed upon him, God only knows what a ter- 
rible attack there was made upon his rear. Rochester,' 

*John Wllmot, second Earl of Rochester, son of Henry Wil- 
mot, first Earl, who followed King Charles in his adventurous 
wanderings after the battle of Worcester:* John's mother (his 
father's second wife) was the widow of Sir F. H. Lee, of 
Ditchley Park, Oxfordshire, where John was born, loth April 
1647 (the seat of the Wilmots was at Adderbury, in the same 
county^). He succeeded to the title, 9th February 1657-8. Edu- 
cated at Burford, he was admitted a Fello.w of Wadham College, 
Oxford, in January 1659-60, and created M.A. in 1661. On leav- 
ing the University he travelled in France and Italy under the 
care of Dr. Balfour, who encouraged his love of literature. On 
returning from his travels in 1664, he made his appearance at 
Court, where his natural brilliancy and wit had fre'e scope for 
development. Though at first modest, he soon became corrupted 
by the King and his dissolute companions, whom soon he rivalled 
in debauchery. Two years afterwards he was made Gentleman 
of the King's Bedchamber, and in 1674, Keep'er of Woodstock 
Park, where (at the High Lodge) he died 26th July i68i,' after 
two years' failing health, resulting from his debauched way of 
living. Bishop Burnet was with him for four days prior to his 
death, and, according to the book h'e published afterwards, brought 
him to a right way of thinking (s'ee Burnet's Life of Rochester), 
His wife, " La triste heritiere," survived him a little over a year, 
and his son* Charles, the third Earl of the Wilmots (then aged 
ten years) only five months. (Some of Rochester's letters to his 
wife and son have been published in Chambers's English Literal 
ture). Cibber records the fact that Rochester wrote a scandalous 

. ^ See TTie Flisht of the Kins. ' Ibid. 

Buried at Spilsbury Church, near Ditchley (see Picturesqute Old Houses, 
pp. I43«i44). * There were three daughters. 



210 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Middlesex,' Sedley/ Etherege,^ and all the whole band 
of wits, exposed him in numberless ballads, and di- 
verted the public at his expense. 

history of contemporary Court intrigu'es, which was burnt by his 
mother's directions after his death. He gained most of his in- 
information from a footman whom he disguised as a sentinel to 
keep nocturnal watch at the apartments of the various Court 
ladies of whom he had his suspicions {vide Burnet's Own Time). 
Most of his poems and plays are mentioned in the article in the 
Did. of Nat. Biography, from which much of the above has 
been quoted (vol. Ixii. pp. 63-67). There are various stories of 
Rochester's wild exploits, disguised as a beggar, porter, mounte- 
bank, etc., as the freak might require, and on one occasion he 
and Buckingham took an inn near Newmarket, where they had 
many opportunities for amorous intrigues (vide Works of the 
Earls of Rochester and Roscommon). 

^At this time the Earl of Middlesex was Lionel, who died in 
1674. The person intended by our author was Charles, then Lord 
Buckhurst, eldest son of Richard, fifth Earl of Dorset, after- 
wards Earl of Middlesex, and, lastly, Duke of Dorset, b. 1637, ob. 
January 1705-6. Bishop Burnet says he " was a generous, 
good-natured man. He was so oppressed with phlegm, that, till 
he was a little heated with wine, he scarce ever spoke; but he 
was, upon that exaltation, a very lively man. Never was so much 
ill-nature in a pen as in his, joined with so much good-nature as 
was in himself, even to excess ; for he was against all punishing, 
even of malefactors. He was bountiful, even to run himself into 
difficulties, and charitable to a fault ; for he commonly gave all he 
had about him when he met an object that moved him. But he 
was so lazy, that, though the King seemed to court him to be a 
favourite, he would not give himself the trouble that belonged 
to that post. He hated the Court, and despised the King, when 
he saw he was neither generous nor tender-hearted " (History 
of his Own Time, vol. i. p. 370). Lord Orford says of him, that 
" he was the finest gentleman of the voluptuous Court of Charles 
the Second, and in the gloomy one of King William. He had 
as much wit as his first master, or his contemporaries, Bucking- 
ham and Rochester, without the royal want of feeling, the Duke's 
want of principles, or the Earl's want of thought. The latter 
said, with astonishment, 'that he did not know how it was, 
but Lord Dorset might do anything and yet was never to 
blame.' It was not that he was free from the failings of hu- 
manity, but he had the tenderness of it too, which made every- 
body excuse whom everybody loved ; for even the asperity of 
his verses seems to have been forgiven too. 

" 'The best good man, with the worst-natured muse.'" 

Noble Authors, vol. ii. p. 96. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 211 

The Chevalier de Gramont was highly pleased with 
these lively and humorous compositions; and where- 
ever this subject was mentioned, never failed to pro- 
duce his supplement upon the occasion. "It is 
strange/' said he, ''that the country, which is little 
better than a gallows or a grave for young people, 
is allotted in this land only for the unfortunate, and 

Pepys records (13th July 1667) that my Lord Buckhurst hath 
got Nell away from the King's House, and gives her £100 a year. 
Next day, at the King's Head, Epsom, he hears that the two are 
lodging in the next house with Sedley. In the following August 
(26th), Nell had left Buckhurst, and was back at the playhouse 
again {Diary). [The house at Epsom above alluded to is occu- 
pied as a grocer's shop. The rooms Nelly occupied, according 
to the tradition, are those with little bay windows, looking into 
the street. The interior has been modernised.] 

* Sir Charles Sedley, son of Sir John Sedley of Southfleet, and 
Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Savile, was born at Aylesford, 
Kent, about the year 1639. Sedley married, in 1657, Catherine, 
daughter of John Savage, Earl Rivers, by whom he had one 
daughter, Catherine, who became James H.'s mistress, and was 
created Countess of Dorchester. Sir Charles retired from town 
life after the death of Charles II., and warmly espoused the cause 
of William of Orange at the Revolution. Pepys gives glimpses of 
Sedley's debaucheries, for which he was notorious. As a wit and 
author of amorous lyrics he was less sparkling and obscene than 
Rochester. Charles II. dubbed him " Apollo's Viceroy," and Dry- 
den — " The Tibullus of the Age." His plays are, Anthony and 
Cleopatra, The Mulberry Garden, and Bellamira or the Mistress. 
He died 20th August 1701. Rochester's lines on Sedley's seduc- 
tive verse are well known. (See also Diet, of Nat. Biography.) 

^ Sir George Etherege, born 1634, knighted 1680, author of the 
Comedies, The Comical Revenge, She Would if She Could, and 
Sir Flopling Flutter. The hero of the last, according to Dean 
Lockier, was an exact portrait of Etherege hims'elf. while the 
character of Dorinant, in the same play, was a picture of Ethe- 
rege's boon companion, John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester. These 
two libertines, with William Jepson and Mr. Downes, were con- 
cerned in a midnight brawl with the watch at Epsom, in 1676, 
wherein the last was killed, and they had to abscond. When James 
came to the throne, Etherege was sent as Ambassador to Vienna, 
Hamburgh, and Ratisbon. His letter book of the last place gives 
an insight into his loose way of living. He, however, was loyal 
to his master, as may be seen from two interesting letters (pre- 
served at Netherby Hall, Cumberland) to Lord Preston, at the 
time of the King's abdication. From Ratisbon, Etherege removed 



212 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

not for the guilty ! Poor Lady Chesterfield, for some 
unguarded looks, is immediately seized upon by an 
angry husband, who will oblige her to spend her 
Christmas at a country-house a hundred and fifty miles 
from London ; while here there are a thousand ladies 
who are left at liberty to do whatever they please, and 
who indulge in that liberty, and whose conduct, in 
short, deserves a daily bastinado. I name no person 
— God forbid I should; but Lady Middleton, Lady 
Denham, the Queen's and the Duchess's maids of 
honour, and a hundred others, bestow their favours to 
the right and to the left, and not the least notice is 
taken of their conduct. As for Lady Shrewsbury," she 
is conspicuous. I would take a wager she might have 
a man killed for her every day, and she would only 
hold her head the higher for it. One would suppose 
she imported from Rome plenary indulgences for her 
conduct. There are three or four gentlemen who wear 
an ounce of her hair made into bracelets, and no per- 
son finds any fault ; and yet shall such a cross-grained 
fool as Chesterfield be permitted to exercise an act of 
tyranny, altogether unknown in this country, upon the 
prettiest woman in England, and all for a mere trifle. 
But I am his humble servant ; his precautions will avail 

to Paris, where his death occurred, like his contemporary Lord 
Lovelace, from a tumble downstairs while in a state of intoxica- 
tion (January 1690-1). He left a widow, but no legitimate issue. 
He is said to have I'eft a legacy^ to a natural daughter, by the 
actress, Elizabeth Barry, According to Rochester, Etherege had 
as much " fancy, sense, judgment, and wit," as any writer of the 
day. (See Diet, of Nat. Biography, vol. xviii. p. 44; Add. MSS. 
(B.M.), No. 11,513; Gosse's Seventeenth Century Studies, and 
Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 7, App., p. 428, 467.) 

^At this time, when Louis XIV. was negotiating his second 
Secret Treaty with Charles H. (February 1670-1), by the Earl 
of Arlington's suggestion, the Countess of Shrewsbury was 
bribed with 10,000 livres " in order to fix Buckingham the 
better." Upon the receipt the lady said " she would make Buck- 
ingham, comply with King Charles in all things " (vide Dal- 
rymple's Memoirs, 1773, App., pp. 81-82). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 213 

him nothing; on the contrary, very often a woman, 
who had no bad intentions when she was suffered to 
remain in tranquillity, is prompted to such conduct by 
revenge, or reduced to it by necessity : this is as true 
as the gospel. Hear now what Francisco's saraband 
says on the subject: 

"Tell me, jealous-pated swain, 

What avail thy idle arts, 

To divide united hearts? 

Love, like the wind, I trow. 

Will, where it listeth, blow ; 
So, prithee, peace, for all thy cares are vain. 

" When you are by. 
Nor wishful look, be sure, nor eloquent sigh. 
Shall dare those inward fires discover. 
Which burn in either lover : 
Yet Argus' self, if Argus were thy spy. 

Should ne'er, with all his mob of eyes. 
Surprise. 

" Some Joys forbidden, 
Transports hidd'en, 
Which love, through dark and secret ways, 
Mysterious love, to kindred souls conveys." 

The Chevalier de Gramont passed for the author 
of this sonnet. Neither the justness of the sentiment, 
nor turn of it, are surprisingly beautiful; but as it 
contained some truths that flattered the genius of the 
nation, and pleased those who interested themselves 
for the fair sex, the ladies were all desirous of having 
l;hem to teach them to their children. 

During all this time the Duke of York, not being 
in the way of seeing Lady Chesterfield, easily forgot 
her. Her absence, however, had some circumstances 
attending it which could not but sensibly affect the 
person who had occasioned her confinement ; but there 
are certain fortunate tempers to which every situation 
is easy; they feel neither disappointment with bitter- 
ness, nor pleasure with acuteness. In the meantime, 



214 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

as the Duke could not remain idle, he had no sooner 
forgotten Lady Chesterfield, but he began to think of 
her whom he had been in love with before, and was 
upon the point of relapsing into his old passion for 
Miss Hamilton. 

There was in London a celebrated portrait-painter 
named Lely,^ who had greatly improved himself by 
studying the famous Vandyke's pictures, which were 

'Sir Peter Lely, the principal painter of Charles II.'s reign, 
was born at Soest in Holland, and studied under Grebber at 
Haerl'em. His real name was Van der Faes, his father being 
a captain in the infantry. He came to England in 1643, and was 
received with favour at Court, where he painted many portraits ; 
but it was in the reign of the second Charles that he became 
particularly famous for his portraits of the ladies of the Court, 
some of the best examples of which are the well-known Beauties 
at Hampton Court. Althorp also possesses some of his best 
work. In comparing Lely's painting with Vandyke's, Walpole 
contrasts the formal drapery of the latter with the fantastic 
night-gown raiments of the former. "Whether the age was 
improved in beauty or in flattery," he adds, "Lely's women are 
certainly much handsomer than those of Vandyck. They please 
as much more as they evidently meaned to please." But for all 
that, there is a sameness in the Court painter's wom'en which is 
unmistakable ; whether it is the " sleepy eye and melting soul,'* 
of which doubtless Lady Castlemaine set the fashion, that was 
of more importance than any particular characteristic expression 
in a face; or whether the great demand for the painter's work 
introduced into his portraits so striking a similarity, we cannot 
undertake to say. Undoubtedly, many inferior pictures attributed 
to Lely are not by him at all, and for this reason he has been 
blamed for executing some very indifferent brushwork. Every 
house of any (pretensions had to possess a few of the famous 
Court beauties, and doubtl'ess there were many inferior artists 
to supply the demand and execute weak imitations in Lely's style. 

Pepys records that Lely i lived in great state and was "mighty 
proud." It is interesting to note that some of the best-known of 
the artist's portraits were seen in his studio at Covent Garden, 
or in the Royal apartments at Whitehall by the diarist, at the 
actual time the living representatives Were giving the painter a 
sitting, and, with one or two exceptions, the likeness was ap- 
proved by this somewhat captious critic. The last painting by 
Lely was the handsomest of all the " Beauties," the Duchess of 
Somerset. While engaged upon this, he died suddenly (in 1680). 
He was buried in Covent Garden Church, where his bust may 
be seen, carved by Grinling Gibbons. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 215 

dispersed all over England in abundance. Lely imi- 
tated Vandyke's manner, and approached the nearest 
to him of all the moderns. The Duchess of York, 
being desirous of having the portraits of the hand- 
somest persons at Court, Lely painted them, and em- 
ployed all his skill in the performance; nor could he 
ever exert himself upon more beautiful subjects. 
Every picture looked a masterpiece ; and that of Miss 
Hamilton appeared the highest finished : Lely himself 
acknowledged that he had drawn it with particular 
pleasure. . 

The Duke of York took a delight in looking at it, 
and began again to ogle the original. He had very 
little reason to hope for success ; and at the same time 
that his hopelesss passion alarmed the Chevalier de 
Gramont, Lady Denham thought proper to renew the 
negotiation which had so unluckily been interrupted. 
It was soon brought to a conclusion; for where both 
parties are sincere in a negotiation, no time is lost 
in cavilling.* Everything succeeded prosperously on 
one side; yet, I know not what fatality obstructed 
the pretensions of the other. The Duke was very 
urgent with the Duchess to put Lady Denham in pos- 
session of the place which was the object of her am- 

^Pepys (loth June 1666) says, on the authority of Pierce thfe 
surgeon, that " the Duke of York is wholly given up to his new 
mistress, my Lady Denham, going at noon-day with all his gen- 
tlemen with him to visit her in Scotland Yard, she declaring she 
will not be his mistress as Mrs. Price, to go up and down the 
privy stairs, but will be owned publicly, and so she is. Mr. 
Bruncker, it seems, was the pimp to bring it about." On 26th 
September (1666) he writes: "Here (Whitehall) I had the hap 
to see my Lady Denham, and at night went into the dining-room 
and saw several fine ladies, among others Castlemayne, but 
chiefly Denham again, and the Duke of York taking her aside and 
talking to her in the sight of all the world, all alone, which was 
strange, and what also I did not like. Here I met with good 
Mr. Evelyn, who cries out against it, and calls it bitchering, for 
the Duke of York talks a little to her, and then she goes away, 
and then he follows her again like a dog." There are other 



2i6 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

bition ; but as she was not guarantee for the perform- 
ance of the secret articles of the treaty, though till this 
time she had borne with patience the inconstancy of 
the Duke, and yielded submissively to his desires ; yet, 
in the present instance, it appeared hard and dishon- 
ourable to her to entertain near her person a rival, who 
would expose her to the danger of acting but a second 
part in the midst of her own court. However, she 
saw herself upon the point of being forced to it by 
authority, when a far more unfortunate obstacle for 
ever bereft poor Lady Denham of the hopes of pos- 
sessing that fatal place, which she had solicited with 
such eagerness. 

Old Denham, naturally jealous, became more and 
more suspicious, and found that he had sufficient 
ground for such conduct. His wife was young and 
handsome, he old and disagreeable : what reason then 
had he to flatter himself that Heaven would exempt 
him from the fate of husbands in the like circum- 
stances? This he was continually saying to himself; 
but when compliments were poured in upon him from 
all sides, upon the place his lady was going to have 
near the Duchess's person, he formed ideas of what 
was sufficient to have made him hang himself, if he 
had possessed the resolution. The traitor chose rather 
to exercise his courage against another. He wanted 
precedents for putting in practice his resentments in 
a privileged country: that of Lord Chesterfield was 
not sufficiently bitter for the revenge he meditated; 
besides, he had no country-house to which he could 

brief entries of th'e same nature, and on loth November Pepys 
says : " My Lady Denham is exceeding sick even to death, and 
that she says and everybody else discourses that she is poisoned." 
Though reported dead on 12th November, her ladyship rallied. 
A month later (12th December) she was still ill, and on 7th 
January Pepys records her death. She was buried at St. Mar- 
garet's, Westrninster, in the middle of the chancel, but the stone 
bears no inscription. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 217 

carry his unfortunate wife. This being the case, the 
old villain made her travel a much longer journey 
without stirring out of London. Merciless fate robbed 
her of life/ and of her dearest hopes, in the bloom of 
youth. 

As no person entertained any doubt of his having 
poisoned her, the populace of his neighbourhood had 
a design of tearing him in pieces, as soon as he should 
come abroad, but he shut himself up to bewail her 
death, until their fury was appeased by a magnificent 
funeral, at which he distributed four times more burnt 
wine than had ever been drunk at any burial in 
England. 

While the town was in fear of some great disaster, 
as an expiation for these fatal effects of jealousy, 
Hamilton" was not altogether so easy as he flattered 
himself he should be after the departure of Lady 
Chesterfield. He had only consulted the dictates of 
revenge in what he had done. His vengeance was 
satisfied; but such was far from being the case with 
his love; and having, since the absence of her he still 
admired, notwithstanding his resentments, leisure to 

® The lampoons of the day, some of which are to be found in 
Andrew Marvell's Works, more than insinuate that she was de- 
prived of life by a mixture infused into some chocolate. The 
slander of the times imputed her death to the jealousy of the 
Duchess of York. 7th January 1666-7: Lord Brouncker told 
Pepys " that my Lady Denham is at last dead. Some suspect 
her poisoned, but it will be best known when her body is opened 
to-day, she dying yesterday morning. The Duke of York 
is troubled for her, but hath declared he will never have another 
public mistress again, which I shall be glad of, and would the 
King do the like." 

Aubrey says : " She was poisoned by the hands of the Co. of 
Roc. with chocolate." At the post-mortem examination, no trace 
of poison was found. She died a natural death. "My Lady 
Denham's body, at her own desire, was opened, but no sign of 
poison found " (Letter from Lord Orrery to the Duke of Or- 
monde, 25th January 1666-7, Orrerv State Papers^ 1742, p. 219), 
See Cunningham's " Chronology " 

^° James Hamilton. 



2i8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

make those reflections which a recent injury will not 
permit a man to attend to : ''And wherefore," said he 
to himself, "was I so eager to make her miserable, 
who alone, however culpable she may be, has it in her 
power to make me happy? Cursed jealousy!" con- 
tinued he, "yet more cruel to those who torment than 
to those who are tormented! What have I gained by 
having blasted the hopes of a more happy rival, since 
I was not able to perform this without depriving my- 
self, at the same time, of her upon whom the whole 
happiness and comfort of my life was centred." 

Thus, clearly proving to himself, by a great many 
reasonings of the same kind, and all out of season, 
that in such an engagement it was much better to par- 
take with another than to have nothing at all, he filled 
his mind with a number of vain regrets and unprofit- 
able remorse, when he received a letter from her who 
occasioned them, but a letter so exactly adapted to 
increase them, that, after he had read it, he looked 
upon himself as the greatest scoundrel in the world. 
Here it follows : 

"You will, no doubt, be as much surprised at this 
letter as I was at the unconcerned air with which you 
beheld my departure. I am led to believe that you 
had imagined reasons which, in your own mind, justi- 
fied such unseasonable conduct. If you are still under 
the impression of such barbarous sentiments, it will 
afford you pleasure to be made acquainted with what 
I suffer in the most horrible of prisons. Whatever 
the country affords most melancholy in this season 
presents itself to my view on all sides. Surrounded 
by impassable roads, out of one window I see nothing 
but rocks, out of another nothing but precipices; but 
wherever I turn my eyes within doors I meet those of 
a jealous husband, still more insupportable than the 
sad objects that encompass me. I should add to the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 219 

misfortunes of my life that of seeming criminal in 
the eyes of a man who ought to have justified me, 
even against convincing appearances, if by my avowed 
innocence I had a right to complain or to expostulate. 
But how is it possible for me to justify myself at such 
a distance; and how can I flatter myself that the de- 
scription of a most dreadful prison will not prevent 
you from believing me? But do you deserve that I 
should wish you did ? Heavens ! how I must hate you 
if I did not love you to distraction. Come, therefore, 
and let me once again see you, that you may hear my 
justification; and I am convinced that if after this 
visit you find me guilty it will not be with respect to 
yourself. Our Argus sets out to-morrow for Qiester, 
where a lawsuit will detain him a week. I know not 
whether he will gain it; but I am sure it will be en- 
tirely your fault if he does not lose one, for which he 
is at least as anxious as that he is now going after." 

This letter was sufficient to make a man run blind- 
fold into an adventure still more rash than that which 
was proposed to him, and that was rash enough in all 
respects. He could not perceive by what means she 
could justify herself; but as she assured him he should 
be satisfied with his journey, this was all he desired 
at present. 

There was one of his relations with Lady Chester- 
field, who, having accompanied her in her exile, had 
gained some share in their mtitual confidence; and it 
was through her means he received this letter, with all 
the necessary instructions about his journey and his 
arrival. Secrecy being the soul of such expeditions, 
especially before an amour is accomplished, he took 
post, and set out in the night, animated by the most 
tender and flattering wishes, so that, in less than no 
time almost, in comparison with the distance and the 
badness of the roads, he had travelled a hundred and 



220 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

fifty tedious miles. At the last stage he prudently dis- 
missed the post-boy. It was not yet daylight, and 
therefore, for fear of the rocks and precipices men- 
tioned in her letter, he proceeded with tolerable dis- 
cretion, considering he was in love. 

By this means he fortunately escaped all the dan- 
gerous places, and, according to his instructions, 
alighted at a little hut adjoining the park wall. The 
place was not magnificent; but, as he only wanted 
rest, it did well enough for that. He did not wish for 
daylight, and was even still less desirous of being 
seen; wherefore, having shut himself up in this ob- 
scure retreat, he fell into a profound sleep, and did 
not wake until noon. As he was particularly hungry 
when he awoke, he ate and drank heartily ; and, as he 
was the neatest man at Court, and was expected by the 
neatest lady in England, he spent the remainder of the 
day in dressing himself, and in making all those 
preparations which the time and place permitted, with- 
out deigning once to look around him, or to ask his 
landlord a single question. At last the orders he ex- 
pected with great impatience were brought him, in the 
beginning of the evening, by a servant, who, attending 
him as a guide, after having led him for about half an 
hour in the dirt, through a park of vast extent, 
brought him at last into a garden, into which a little 
door^ opened. He was posted exactly opposite to this 
door, by which, in a short time, he was to be intro- 
duced to a more agreeable situation ; and here his con- 
ductor left him. The night advanced, but the door 
never opened. 

Though the winter was almost over, the cold 
weather seemed only to be beginning. He was dirtied 
up to his knees in mud, and soon perceived that if he 
continued much longer in this garden it would all be 

" The door of a low building openfed (Vizetelly's translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 221 

frozen. This beginning of a very dark and bitter 
night would have been unbearable to any other ; but it 
was nothing to a man who flattered himself to pass 
the remainder of it in the height of bliss. However, 
he began to wonder at so many precautions in the ab- 
sence of a husband. His imagination, by a thousand 
delicious and tender ideas, supported him some time 
against the torments of impatience and the inclemency 
of the weather; but he felt his imagination, notwith- 
standing, cooling by degrees; and two hours, which 
seemed to him as tedious as two whole ages, having 
passed, and not the least notice being taken of him, 
either from the door or from the window, he began 
to reason with himself upon the posture of his affairs, 
and what was the fittest conduct for him to pursue in 
this emergency. "What if I should rap at this cursed 
door," said he; "for if my fate requires that I should 
perish, it is at least more honourable to die in the 
house than to be starved to death^ in the garden. But 
then," continued he, "I may, thereby, perhaps, expose 
a person whom some unforeseen accident may, at this 
very instant, have reduced to greater perplexity than 
even I myself am in." This thought supplied him 
with a necessary degree of patience and fortitude 
against the enemies he had to contend with ; he there- 
fore began to walk quickly to and fro, with resolution 
to wait, as long as he could keep alive, the end of an 
adventure which had such an uncomfortable begin- 
ning. All this was to no purpose ; for though he used 
every effort to keep himself warm, and though muf- 
fled up in a thick cloak, yet he began to be benumbed 
in all his limbs, and the cold gained the ascendancy 
over all his amorous vivacity and eagerness. Day- 
break was not far off, and judging now that, though 
the accursed door should even be opened, it would be 
*^ Perish of cold (Vizetelly's translation). 



222 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

to no purpose, he returned, as well as he could, to the 
place from whence he had set out upon this wonderful 
expedition. 

All the faggots that were in the cottage were hardly- 
able to unfreeze him. The more he reflected on his 
adventure, the circumstances attending it appeared still 
the more strange and unaccountable; but so far from 
accusing the charming Countess, he suffered a thou- 
sand different anxieties on her account. Sometimes he 
imagined that her husband might have returned unex- 
pectedly; sometimes, that she might suddenly have 
been taken ill ; in short, that some insuperable obstacle 
had unluckily interposed, and prevented his happiness, 
notwithstanding his mistress's kind intentions towards 
him. *^But wherefore," said he, "did she forget me 
in that cursed garden? Is it possible that she could 
not find a single moment to make me at least some 
sign or other, if she could neither speak to me nor 
give me admittance?" He knew not which of these 
conjectures to rely upon, or how to answer his own 
questions; but as he flattered himself that everything 
would succeed better the next night, after having 
vowed not tO' set foot again into that unfortunate 
garden, he gave orders to be awakened as soon as any 
person should inquire for him. Then he laid himself 
down in one of the worst beds in the world, and slept 
as sound as if he had been in the best. He supposed 
that he should not be awakened, except either by a 
letter or a message from Lady Chesterfield ; but he had 
scarce slept two hours when he was aroused by the 
sound of the horn and the cry of the hounds. The hut 
which afforded him a retreat, joining, as we before 
said, to the park wall, he called his host, to know 
what was the occasion of that hunting, which made a 
noise as if the whole pack of hounds had been in his 
bedchamber. He was told that it was my lord hunting 



COUNT DE GR~AMONT 22^ 

a hare in his park. "What lord?" said he, in great 
surprise. "The Earl of Chesterfield," replied the 
peasant. He was so astonished at this that at first 
he hid his head under the bedclothes, under the idea 
that he already saw him entering with all his hounds ; 
but as soon as he had a little recovered himself he 
began to curse capricious fortune, no longer doubting 
but this jealous fool's return had occasioned all his 
tribulations in the preceding night. It was not possible 
for him to sleep again, after such an alarm; he there- 
fore got up that he might revolve in his mind all the 
stratagems that are usually employed either to deceive, 
or to remove out of the way, a jealous scoundrel of a 
husband, who thought fit to neglect his lawsuit in 
order to plague his wife. He had just finished dress- 
ing himself, and was beginning to question his land- 
lord, when the same servant who had conducted him 
to the garden delivered him a letter, and disappeared, 
without waiting for an answer. This letter was from 
his relation, and was to this effect: 

"I am extremely sorry that I have innocently been 
accessory to bringing you to a place, to which you 
were only invited to be laughed at. I opposed this 
journey at first, though I was then persuaded it was 
wholly suggested by her tenderness; but she has now 
undeceived me. She triumphs in the trick she has 
played you : her husband has not stirred from hence, 
but stays at home, out of complaisance to her. He 
treats her in the most affectionate manner ; and it was 
upon their reconciliation that she found out that you 
had advised him to carry her into the country. She 
has conceived such hatred and aversion against you 
for it, that I find, from her discourse, she has not yet 
wholly satisfied her resentment. Console yourself for 
the hatred of a person whose heart never merited your 
tenderness. Return: a longer stay in this place will 



224 THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

but draw upon you some fresh misfortune. For my 
part, I shall soon leave her. I know her, and I thank 
God for it. I do not repent having pitied her at first ; 
but I am disgusted with an employment which but ill 
agrees with my way of thinking. '* 

Upon reading this letter, astonishment, shame, 
hatred, and rage, seized at once upon his heart; then 
menaces, invectives, and the desire of vengeance, broke 
forth by turns, and excited his passion and resentment ; 
but, after he deliberately considered the matter, he 
resolved that it was now the best way quietly to mount 
his horse, and to carry back with him to London a 
severe cold, instead of the soft wishes and tender de- 
sires he had brought from thence. He quitted this 
perfidious place with much greater expedition than he 
had arrived at it, though his mind was far from being 
occupied with such tender and agreeable ideas. How- 
ever, when he thought himself at a sufficient distance 
to be out of danger of meeting Lord Chesterfield and 
his hounds, he chose to look back, that he might at 
least have the satisfaction of seeing the prison where 
this wicked enchantress was confined; but what was 
his surprise, when he saw a very fine house, situated 
on the banks of a river, in the most delightful and 
pleasant country imaginable." Neither rock nor preci- 
pice was here to be seen; for, in reality, they were 

"Of the once splendid Inigo Jones mansion (partly constructed 
out of the remains of the ancient castle which stood in Queen 
Elizabettt's reign) of the Earls of Chesterfield at Bretby, near 
Repton, in South Derbyshire, only a few scanty ruins remain. 
When the older seat at Shelford, Nottinghamshire, was de- 
stroyed by the Parliamentary army, the family removed to Bretby 
and resided there until about the year 17S0, when, under the 
belief that the building was unsafe, the Earl of Chesterfield of 
that day caused it to be pulled down and a new structure erected. 
Like many houses of the period, the hous'e was long and narrow, 
with projecting wings. A paved courtyard was entered through 
massy iron gates. From here you entered a portico which led 
to the great hall, staircase, and numferous rich apartments. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 225 

only in the letter of his perfidious mistress. This fur- 
nished fresh cause for resentment and confusion to a 
man who thought himself so well acquainted with all 
the wiles, as well as weaknesses, of the fair sex; and 
who now found himself the dupe of a coquette, who 
was reconciled to her husband in order to be revenged 
on her lover. 

adorned with painted ceilings and valuable tapestry and pictures. 
A chapel of later date stood at right angles with the east wing. 
The old gardens, designed after the style of Versailles, were 
** full of old buildings, fountains, and leaden images in the shape 
of wild beasts," etc. A series of fish ponds extended down a glen 
on the east side of the park, and to the north-east were long 
avenues of elm and chestnut trees. A description of the house 
is given in an old MS. relative to Derbyshire : — " The seat of the 
Earl of Chesterfield is situated in the midst of a very large park, 
well wooded and stored with several kinds of deer and exotic 
beasts. There are several fine avenues of trees leading to th'e 
house, which is of stone, though not of the modern architecture, 
yet very regular, convenient, and noble, with a very curious 
chapel and very good out-buildings. But the gardens, fountains, 
labyrinths, groves, greenhouses, grottoes, aviaries, but more espe- 
cially the carpet walks, and situations of the orange-tre'es and 
water-works before the marble summer-house, are all noble and 
peculiarly curious and pleasant, suitable to the genius of the 
own'er, who has also been the chief contriver of them, the present 
Earl of Chesterfield — Philip Stanhop'e, the third — who, ^ now 
about eighty years of age, retains a great deal of that vigour 
and capacity which has hitherto rendered him the glory of the 
nation" (see Lysons' Derby shire, p. 240). The Earl above al- 
luded to was the same who figures in the Memoirs, and is 
wrongly described as the third Earl. Considerable alterations 
were made to the mansion by him in 1670, and in 1680 further 
alterations and improvements were added. The house as It was 
completed appears In Kip's engraving. A description of Bretby 
in 1787 Is given In A Tour from London to the Western High- 
lands of Scotland, as follows: "Nothing scarce is left of that 
former grandeur, those shades, those sylvan scenes that every- 
where graced the most charming of all parks. The baneful 
hand of luxury hath with rude violence laid them all waste. 
About ten years ago the venerable and lofty pile was stand- 
ing, and exhibited delightful magnificence to Its frequent 
visitors; its painted roofs and walls, besides a large collection 
of pictures, afforded much entertainment to the fond admirer of 
antique beauties; and the whole stood as a lasting monument 
of fame and credit to its lordly owner." 



22^ THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

At last he reached London, well furnished with 
arguments tO' maintain that a man must be extremely 
weak to trust to the tenderness of a woman who has 
once deceived him, but that he must be a complete fool 
to run after her. 

This adventure not being much to his credit, he 
suppressed, as much as possible, both the journey and 
the circumstances attending it; but, as we may easily 
suppose, Lady Chesterfield made no secret of it. The 
King came to the knowledge of it; and, having com- 
plimented Hamilton upon it, desired to be informed of 
all the particulars of the expedition. The Chevalier de 
Gramont happened to be present at this recital; and, 
having gently inveighed against the treacherous man- 
ner in which he had been used, said : ''If she is to be 
blamed for carrying the jest so far, you are no less to 
be blamed for coming back so suddenly, like an 
ignorant novice. I dare lay an hundred guineas, she 
has more than once repented of a resentment which 
you pretty well deserved for the trick you had played 
her. Women love revenge ; but their resentments sel- 
dom last long; and if you had remained in the neigh- 
bourhood till the next day, I will be hanged if she 
would not have given you satisfaction for the first 
night's sufferings." Hamilton being of a different 
opinion, the Chevalier de Gramont resolved to main- 
tain his assertion by a case In point ; and, addressing 
himself to the King: *'Sire/' said he, "your Majesty, I 
suppose, must have known Marion de TOrme," the 
most charming creature in all France. Though she was 
as witty as an angel, she was as capricious as a devil. 

** Marion de I'Orme, born at Chalons, in Champagne, ^ was 
esteemed the most beautiful woman of her times. It is believed 
that she was secretly married to the unfortunate Monsieur Cinq- 
mars. After his death, she became the mistress of Cardinal Riche- 
lieu, and, at last, of Monsieur d'Emery, Superintendent of the 
Finances. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 22J 

This beauty having made me an appointment, a whim 
seized her to put me off, and to give it to another; 
she therefore wrote me one of the tenderest billets in 
the world, full of the grief and sorrow she was in, 
by being obliged to disappoint me, on account of a 
most terrible headache, that obliged her to keep her 
bed, and deprived her of the pleasure of seeing me 
till the next day. This headache coming all of a sud- 
den, appeared to me very suspicious; and, never 
doubting but it was her intention to jilt me : 'Very well, 
mistress coquette,' said I to myself, *if you do not 
enjoy the pleasure of seeing me this day, you shall not 
enjoy the satisfaction of seeing another.' 

"Hereupon, I detached all my servants, some of 
whom patrolled about her house, whilst others watched 
her door. One of the latter brought me intelligence 
that no person had gone into her house all the after- 
noon; but that a foot-boy had gone out as it grew 
dark; that he followed him as far as the Rue Saint 
Antoine, where this boy met another, to whom he only 
spoke two or three words. This was sufficient to con- 
firm my suspicions, and make me resolve either to 
make one of the party, or to disconcert it. 

"As the bagnio where I lodged was at a great dis- 
tance from the Marais, as soon as the night set in I 
mounted my horse, without any attendant. When I 
came to the Place-Royale, the servant, who was 
sentry there, assured me that no person was yet gone 
into Mademoiselle de I'Orme's house. I rode forward 
towards the Rue Saint Antoine; and, just as I was 
going out of the Place-Royale, I saw a man on foot 
coming into it, who avoided me as much as he possibly 
could; but his endeavour was all to no purpose; I 
knew him to be the Duke de Brissac,^ and I no longer 

*^ Louis de Cosse Brissac, who at this time had not yet suc- 
ceeded to the Dukedom (Vizetelly's edition, vol. ii. p. 60). 
8 — ^Memoirs Vol. 4 



228 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

doubted but he was my rival that night. I then ap- 
proached towards him, seeming as if I feared I mis- 
took my man; and, alighting with a very busy air: 
*Brissac, my friend/ said I, 'you must do me a service 
of the very greatest importance. I have an appoint- 
ment, for the first time, with a girl who lives very 
near this place; and, as this visit is only to concert 
measures, I shall make but a very short stay. Be so 
kind, therefore, as to lend me your cloak, and walk 
my horse about a little, until I return ; but, above all, 
do not go far from this place. You see that I use 
you freely like a friend ; but you know it is upon con- 
dition that you may take the same liberty with me.' 
I took his cloak, without waiting for his answer, and 
he took my horse by the bridle, and followed me with 
his eye; but he gained no intelligence by this; for, 
after having pretended to go into a house opposite to 
him, I slipped under the piazzas to Mademoiselle de 
rOrme's, where the door was opened as soon as I 
knocked. I was so much muffled up in Brissac's cloak 
that I was taken for him. The door was immediately 
shut, not the least question asked me ; and having none 
to ask myself I went straight to the lady's chamber. 
I found her upon a couch in the most agreeable and 
genteelest deshabille imaginable : she never in her life 
looked so handsome, nor was so greatly surprised; 
and, seeing her speechless and confounded : *What is 
the matter, my fair one?' said I, *methinks this is a 
headache very elegantly set off ; but your headache, to 
all appearance, is now gone?' 'Not in the least,' said 
she, T can scarce support it, and you will oblige me 
in going away that I may go to bed.' *As for your 
going to bed, to that I have not the least objection,' 
said I, *but as for my going away, that cannot be, my 
little princess : the Chevalier de Gramont is no fool ; a 
woman does not dress herself with so much care for 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 229 

nothing.' *You will find, however,' said she, 'that it 
is for nothing; for you may depend upon it that you 
shall be no gainer by it/ *What !' said I, 'after having 
made me an appointment !' Well,' replied she hastily, 
'though I had made you fifty, it still depends upon me, 
whether I chose to keep them or not, and you must 
submit if I do not.' *This might do very well,' said I, 
*if it was not to give it to another.' Mademoiselle de 
rOrme, as haughty as a woman of the greatest virtue, 
and as passionate as one who has the least, was irri- 
tated at a suspicion which gave her more concern than 
confusion; and seeing that she was beginning to put 
herself in a passion : 'Madam,' said I, *pray do not talk 
in so high a strain ; I know what perplexes you : you 
are afraid lest Brissac should meet me here; but you 
may make yourself easy on that account. I met him 
not far from this place, and God knows that I have 
so managed the affair as to prevent his visiting you 
soon.' Having spoken these words in a tone some- 
what tragical, she appeared concerned at first, and, 
looking upon me with surprise: 'What do you mean 
about the Duke de Brissac?' said she. *I mean,' re- 
plied I, 'that he is at the end of the street, walking my 
horse about; but, if you will not believe me, send one 
of your own servants thither, or look at his cloak 
which I left in your ante-chamber.' Upon this she 
burst into a fit of laughter, in the midst of her as- 
tonishment, and, throwing her arms around my neck, 
'My dear Chevalier,' said she, *I can hold out no 
longer; you are too amiable and too eccentric not to 
be pardoned.' I then told her the whole story. She 
was ready to die with laughing; and, parting very 
good friends, she assured me my rival might exercise 
horses as long as he pleased, but that he should not 
set his foot within her doors that night. 
'1 found the Duke exactly in the place where I 



230 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

had left him. I asked him a thousand pardons for 
having made him wait so long, and thanked him a 
thousand times for his complaisance. He told me I 
jested, that such compliments were unusual among 
friends; and to convince me that he had cordially 
rendered me this piece of service, he would, by all 
means, hold my horse while I was mounting. I re- 
turned him his cloak, bade him good-night, and went 
back to my lodgings, equally satisfied with my mistress 
and my rival. This," continued he, "proves that a 
little patience and address are sufficient to disarm the 
anger of the fair, to turn even their tricks to a man's 
advantage." 

It was in vain that the Chevalier de Gramont di- 
verted the Court with his stories, instructed by his 
example, and never appeared there but to inspire uni- 
versal joy; for a long time he was the only foreigner 
in fashion. Fortune, jealous of the justice which is 
done to merit, and desirous of seeing all human hap- 
piness depend on her caprice, raised up against him 
two competitors for the pleasure he had long enjoyed 
of entertaining the English Court; and these com- 
petitors were so much the more dangerous, as the 
reputation of their several merits had preceded their 
arrival, in order to dispose the suffrages of the Court 
in their favour. 

They came to display, in their own persons, what- 
ever was the most accomplished either among the men 
of the SAvord, or of the gown. The one was the 
Marquis de Flamarens," the sad object of the sad 
elegies of the Countess de la Suse," the other was the 

"Francois de Grossoles, oh. 1706. It is said to have been at his 
suggestion th^rt Henrietta, Duchess of Orleans, came over to 
England with the object of influencing Charles in favour of the 
French alliance (see Vizetelly, vol. ii. p., 281). 

" This lady was the daughter of Caspar de Coligny, Marshal of 
France, and was celebrated in her time for her wit and her 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 231 

President Tambonneau,"^ the most humble and most 
obedient servant and admirer of the beauteous 
Luynes/" As they arrived together, they exerted every 
endeavour to shine in concert. Their talents were as 
different as their persons ; Tambonneau, who was tol- 
erably ugly, founded his hopes upon a great store of 
wit, which, however, no person in England could find 
out ; and Flamarens, by his air and mien, courted ad- 
miration, which was flatly denied him. 

They had agreed mutually to assist each other, in 
order to succeed in their intentions ; and therefore, in 
their first visits, the one appeared in state, and the 
other was the spokesman. But they found the ladies 
in England of a far different taste from those who had 
rendered them famous in France. The rhetoric of the 
one had no effect on the fair sex, and the fine mien 
of the other distinguished him only in a minuet, which 
he first introduced into England, and which he danced 
with tolerable success. The English Court had been 
too long accustomed to the solid wit of Saint-Evre- 
mond, and the natural and singular charms of his 
hero, to be seduced by appearances; however, as the 
English have, in general, a sort of predilection in 
favour of anything that has the appearance of bravery, 
Flamarens was better received on account of a duel, 

elegies. She was one of the few wom'en with whom Christina, 
Queen of Sweden, condescended to become intimate. Though 
educated a Protestant, she embraced the Roman Catholic religion, 
less from a motive of devotion, than to have a pretence for part- 
ing from her husband, who was a Protestant, and for whom 
she had an invincible abhorrence, which occasioned the Queen 
to say, "The Countess of Suae becam'e a Catholic, that she 
might neither meet her husband in this world nor the next." 
— See Lacombe's Life of Queen Christina. The Countess di'ed 
in 1673. 

" President of the Chambre des Comptes, where the financial 
business of the State was transacted from the year 1302 until 1790, 
when it was abolished. 

*"Jane Mary, eldest daughter of Colbert, the French Minister. 
She married the Duke de Luynes (Vizetelly, ii. p. 64). 



232 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

which, obliging him to leave his own country, was a 
recommendation to him in England. 

Miss Hamilton had, at first, the honour of being 
distinguished by Tambonneau, who thought she pos- 
sessed a sufficient share of wit tO' discover the delicacy 
of his ; and, being delighted to find that nothing was 
lost in her conversation, either as to the turn, the ex- 
pression, or beauty of the thought, he frequently did 
her the favour to converse with her ; and, perhaps, he 
would never have found out that he was tiresome, if, 
contenting himself with the display of his eloquence, 
he had not thought proper to attack her heart. This 
was carrying the matter a little too far for Miss Ham- 
ilton's complaisance, who was of opinion that she had 
already shown him too much for the tropes of his 
harangues ; he was therefore desired to try somewhere 
else the experiment of his seducing tongue, and not to 
lose the merit of his former constancy by an infidelity 
which would be of no advantage to him. 

He followed this advice like a wise and tractable 
man ; and some time after, returning to his old mistress 
in France, he began to lay in a store of politics for 
those important negotiations in which he has since 
been employed. 

It was not till after his departure that the Chevalier 
de Gramont heard of the amorous declaration he had 
made. This was a confidence of no great importance ; 
it, however, saved Tambonneau from some ridicule 
which might have fallen to his share before he went 
away. His colleague, Flamarens, deprived of his sup- 
^port, soon perceived that he was not likely to meet 
in England with the success he had expected, both 
from love and fortune ; but Lord Falmouth, ever atten- 
tive to the glory of his master, in the relief of illus- 
trious men in distress, provided for his subsistence, 
and Lady Southesk for his pleasures; he obtained a 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 233 

pension from the King, and from her everything he 
desired ; and most happy was it for him that she had 
no other present to bestow but that of her heart. 

It was at this time that Talbot, whom we have 
before mentioned, and who was afterwards created 
Duke of Tyrconnel, fell in love with Miss Hamilton, 
There was not a more genteel man^ at Court. He was 
indeed but a younger brother, though of a very ancient 
family, which, however, was not very considerable 
either for its renown or its riches ; and though he was 
naturally of a careless disposition, yet, being intent 
upon making his fortune, and much in favour with 
the Duke of York, and fortune likewise favouring him 
at play, he had improved both so well that he was in 
possession of about forty thousand pounds'* a year in 
land. He offered himself to Miss Hamilton, with this 
fortune, together with the almost certain hopes of 
being made a peer of the realm, by his master's credit ; 
and, over and above all, as many sacrifices as she 
could desire of Lady Shrewsbury's letters, pictures, 
and hair: curiosities which, indeed, are reckoned for 
nothing in housekeeping, but which testify strongly 
in favour of the sincerity and merit of a lover. 

Such a rival was not to be despised; and the 
Chevalier de Gramont thought him the more danger- 
ous, as he perceived that Talbot was desperately in 
love; that he was not a man to be discouraged by a 
fitst repulse; that he had too much sense and good 
breeding to draw upon himself either contempt or cold- 
ness by too great eagerness; and, besides this, his 
brothers began to frequent the house. One of these 
brothers was Almoner to the Queen," an intriguing 

**Man of better appearance (Vizetelly*s translation). 

^Livres (ibid.). This is less than £2000. 

** Peter Talbot, Almonfer to the Queen, bom 1620, second son 
of Sir William Talbot, and elder brother of Richard, Duke of 
Tyrconnel. Consecrated in 1669 at Antwerp. He lived upon 
friendly terms with his brothers* patrons the Duke and Duchess 



234 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Jesuit, and a great match-maker; the other was what 
was called a lay-monk/^ who had nothing of his order 
but the immorality and infamy of character which is 
ascribed to them, and withal, frank and free, and 
sometimes entertaining, but ever ready to speak bold 
and offensive truths, as to do good offices. 

When the Chevalier de Gramont reflected upon all 
these things, there certainly was strong ground for 
uneasiness ; nor was the indifference which Miss Ham- 
ilton showed for the addresses of his rival sufficient 
to remove his fears ; for being absolutely dependent on 
her father's will, she could only answer for her own 
intentions; but Fortune, who seemed to have taken 
him under her protection in England, now delivered 
him from all his uneasiness. 

Talbot had for many years stood forward as the 
patron of the distressed Irish. This zeal for his coun- 
trymen was certainly very commendable in itself; at 
the same time, however, it was not altogether free 
from self-interest; for, out of all the estates he had, 
through his credit, procured the restoration of to their 
primitive owners, he had always obtained some small 
compensation for himself; but as each owner found 
his advantage in it, no complaint was made. Neverthe- 
less, as it IS very difficult to use fortune and favour with 
moderation, and not to swell with the gales of pros- 
perity, some of his proceedings had an air of haughti- 
ness and independence, which offended the Duke of 
Ormonde,** then Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, as in- 

of York, residing latterly at Pool'e Hall, Cheshire (which is still 
in good preservation). He died in 1680. Clarendon speaks of 
him in his Continuation in not too favourable terms. 

^Thomas Talbot, a Franciscan friar, "of wit enough," says 
Lord Clarendon, "but of notorious debauchery" (Continuation 
of Clarendon, p. 363.) 

"A minute account of this transaction is given by Lord Clar- 
endon, by which it appears that Talbot was committed to the 
Tower for threatening to assassinate the Duke of Ormonde 
[{Continuation of Clarendon, p. 362). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 235 

jurious to his Grace's authority. The Duke resented 
this behaviour with great spirit. As there certainly 
was a great difference between them, both as to their 
birth and rank, and to their credit, it had been prudent 
in Talbot to have had recourse to apologies and sub- 
mission; but such conduct appeared to him base, and 
unworthy for a man of his importance to submit to. 
He accordingly acted with haughtiness and inso- 
lence ; but he was soon convinced of his error ; for, 
having inconsiderately launched out into some arro- 
gant expressions, which it neither became him to utter 
nor the Duke of Ormonde to forgive, he w^as sent 
prisoner to the Tower, from whence he could not be 
released until he had made all necessary submissions 
to his Grace. He therefore employed all his friends 
for that purpose, and was obliged to yield more to get 
out of this scrape than would have been necessary to 
have avoided it. By this imprudent conduct he lost 
all hopes of marrying into a family which, after such 
a proceeding, was not likely to listen to any proposal 
from him. 

It was with great difficulty and mortification that he 
was obliged to suppress a passion which had made far 
greater progress in his heart than this quarrel had done 
good to his affairs. This being the case, he was of 
opinion that his presence was necessary in Ireland, and 
that he was better out of the way of Miss Hamilton, 
to remove those impressions which still troubled his 
repose. His departure, therefore, soon followed this 
resolution. 

Talbot played deep, and was tolerably forgetful; 
the Chevalier de Gramont won three or four hundred 
guineas of him the very evening on which he was sent 
to the Tower. That accident had made him forget his 
usual punctuality in paying the next morning whatever 
he had lost over-night; and this debt had so far es- 



236 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

caped his memory, that it never once occurred to him 
after he was enlarged. The Chevalier de Gramont, 
who saw him at his departure, without taking the least 
notice of the money he owed him, wished him a good 
journey; and, having met him at Court, as he came 
to take his leave of the King: "Talbot," said he, "if 
my services can be of any use to you during your ab- 
sence, you have but to command them. You know old 
Russell has left his nephew as his resident with Miss 
Hamilton. If you please, I will act for you in the 
same capacity. Adieu, God bless you; be sure not to 
fall sick upon the road; but if you should, pray re- 
member me in your will." Talbot, who, upon this 
compliment, immediately recollected the money he 
owed the Chevalier, burst out laughing, and embracing 
him: "My dear Chevalier," said he, "I am so much 
obliged to you for your offer, that I resign you my 
mistress, and will send you your money instantly." 
The Chevalier de Gramont possessed a thousand of 
these genteel ways of refreshing the memories of those 
persons who were apt to be forgetful in their pay- 
ments. The following is the method he used some 
years after with Lord Cornwallis.^ This lord had 

^Charles Cornwallis, second Baron Cornwallis of Eye (born 
1632) Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to Charles II., was son 
and heir of Sir Frederick Cornwallis, Bart.^ (created Baron, 20th 
April 1661), and Elizabeth, daughter of Sir John Ashburnham. 
He married Margaret, daughter of Sir Thomas Playsted, and 
died at St. Dunstans in the East, 13th April 1673. 

Pepys mentions the visit of Charles II. to Lord Cornwallis 
at Culford Hall, near Bury St. Edmunds (an Elizabethan man- 
sion, rebuilt in the eighteenth century), during a sojourn at New- 
market, wh'en (by Creed's account) the King's host endeavoured 
to procure for his Majesty the parson's pretty^ daughter, who, 
however, escaped, "and leaped off of some high place killed 
herself, which," says the diarist, "if true is Very sad" (Diary, 
l8th July t668). 

The third Lord Cornwallis, born 1655, son of the above, mar- 
ried, in the year 1688, the widow of the Duke of Monmouth (vide 
King Monmouth). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 237 

married the daughter of Sir Stephen Fox,^^ Treasurer 
of the King's Household, one of the richest and 
most regular men in England. His son-in-law, on 
the contrary, was a young spendthrift, was very 
extravagant, loved gaming, lost as much as any one 
would trust him, but was not quite so ready at paying. 
His father-in-law disapproved of his conduct, paid his 
debts, and gave him a lecture at the same time. The 
Chevalier de Gramont had won of him a thousand or 
twelve hundred guineas, which he heard no tidings 
of, although he was upon the eve of his departure, and 
he had taken leave of Cornwallis in a more particular 
manner than any other person. This obliged the 
Chevalier to write him a billet, which was rather 
laconic. It was this : 

"My Lord, 

'Tray remember the Count de Gramont, and 
do not forget Sir Stephen Fox."" 

^® Sir Stephen Fox, son of William Fox, of Farley, Wilts, born 
1627, statesman and Royalist He was employed on various 
secret missions to England prior to the Restoration, b'eing attached 
to Charles II.'s Court in Holland, and was the first to bring the 
welcome news of Cromwell's death. He was knighted in 1665. 
Though he supported Clarendon and voted against the Chan- 
cellor's impeachment, he retained th'e King's friendship. From 
Clerk of the Green Cloth and Paymaster of the Forces he was 
promoted to one of the Lords Commissioners of the Treasury in 
1679. At the Revolution he opposed William of Orange, though 
he was won over in 1689. He led the Commons at Queen Anne's 
Coronation, He died at his house in Chiswick in October 1716, 
and was buried at Farley. By his second wife Christian Hope, 
whom he married in his seventy-seventh year, he left two sons 
(afterwards Earl of Ilchester and Viscount Holland) and two 
daughters. By his first wife, Elizabeth Whittle (sister to Charles 
II.'s court surgeon), he left two sons and three daughters. 

Evelyn speaks of his good parts — kindness and benevolence. 
Much of the wealth he had amassed was spent in erecting 
churches and almshouses, and the idea of founding Chelsea Hos- 
pital was in reality his and not Nell Gwyn's, as is popularly be- 
lieved (vide Dictionary of National Biography, vol. xx. pp. 
134-135). 

^ Going by the date of Lord Cornwallis's marriage, the 



238 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

To return to Talbot : he went away more concerned 
than became a man who had voluntarily resigned his 
mistress to another; neither his stay in Ireland, nor 
his solicitude about his domestic affairs, perfectly 
cured him; and if at his return he found himself dis- 
engaged from Miss Hamilton's chains, it was only to 
exchange them for others. The alteration that had 
taken place in the two Courts occasioned this change 
in him, as we shall see in the sequel. 

We have hitherto only mentioned the Queen's Maids 
of Honour, upon account of Miss Stewart and Miss 
Warmester. The others were Miss Bellenden, Madem- 
oiselle de la Garde, and Mademoiselle Bardou, all 
maids of honour, as it pleased God. 

Miss Bellenden^^ was no beauty, but was a good- 
natured girl, whose chief merit consisted in being 
plump and fresh-coloured ; and who, not having a suf- 
ficient stock of wit to be a coquette in form, used all 
her endeavours to please every person by her com- 
plaisance. 

Mademoiselle de la Garde, and Mademoiselle Bardou, 
both French, had been preferred to their places by the 
Queen Dowager: the first was a little brunette, who 
was continually meddling in the affairs of her com- 
panions; and the other by all means claimed the rank 
of a maid of honour, though she only lodged with the 
others, and both her title and services were constantly 
contested. 

It was hardly possible for a woman to be more 

ugly, with so fine a shape; but as a recompense, her 

ugliness was set off with every art. The use she was 

put to was to dance with Flamarens, and sometimes, 

towards the conclusion of a ball, possessed of casta- 

above incident cannot have happened before 27th December 
167.3. 

^® Possibly the daughter of William, created Lord Bellenden 
1661, the son of Sir James B'ellenden of Broughton. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 239 

nets and effrontery, she would dance some figured 
saraband or other, which amused the Court. Let us 
now see in what manner this ended. 

As Miss Stewart was very seldom in waiting on 
the Queen, she was scarcely considered as a maid 
of honour. The others went off almost at the same 
time, by different adventures; and this is the his- 
tory of Miss Warmester, whom we have before 
mentioned, when speaking of the Chevalier de 
Gramont. 

Lord Taaffe, eldest son of the Earl of Carlingford,^* 
was supposed to be in love with her; and Miss 
Warmester not only imagined it was so, but likewise 
persuaded herself that he would not fail to marry her 
the first opportunity ; and in the meantime she thought 
it her duty to entertain him with all the civility imagin- 
able. 

Taaffe had made the Duke of Richmond'" his con- 

^® Nicholas, third Viscount Taaffe, afterwards second Earl of 
Carlingford, was the son of Sir Theobald Taaffe, the second 
Viscount of that name, first Earl of Carlingford, and Mary, 
daughter of Sir Nicholas White of Leixlip, Co. Kildare. He was 
Privy Councillor, and served in the Spanish Army. Both he 
and his brother John were killed in the Jacobite cause, the for- 
mer at the battle of the Boyne (1691) and the latter at the siege 
of Derry (1689). Nicholas was succeeded by his brother Francis, 
fourth Viscount Taaffe and third Earl of Carlingford, b. 1639, 
ob. 1704, who, dying without issue, was succeeded by his nephew 
(John's son) Theobald, the fourth and last Earl, who died in 
1738, when th'e title became extinct. 

" Old Lord Carlingford " of the Memoirs, the second Vis- 
count Taaffe, was in all probability the father of the Duke 
of Monmouth's half-sister, Mary Walter (vide King Monmouth, 
chap, vi., and the Appendix of that work, pp. 403-406). He was 
created Earl, 17th June 1661, and died 31st December 1677. 
Charles II. had a great regard for the Taaffe family. 

^^ Charles Stewart, fourth Duke of Richmond, only son of 
George Stewart (the fourth son of Esme, third Duke of Len- 
nox) and Catherine Howard, eldest daughter of the second 
Earl of Suffolk, born March 1639-40. He succeeded to the title 
in August 1660. He was sent as ambassador to Denmark, as 
Burnet says, upon a sleeveless errand, and died at Elsinore in 



240 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

fidant: these two were particularly attached to each 
other; but still more so to wine. The Duke of Rich- 
mond, notwithstanding his birth, made but an indif- 
ferent figure at Court; and the King respected him 
still less than his courtiers did ; and perhaps it was in 
order to court his Majesty's favour that he thought 
proper to fall in love with Miss Stewart. The Duke 
and Lord Taaffe made each other the confidants of 
their respective engagements; and these were the 
measures they took to put their designs in execution. 
Little Mademoiselle de la Garde*^ was charged to ac- 
quaint Miss Stewart that the Duke of Richmond was 
dying of love for her, and that when he ogled her in 
public it was a certain sign that he was ready to marry 
iier, as soon as ever she would consent. 

Taaffe had no commission to give the little ambas- 
sadress for Miss Warmester; for there everything was 
already arranged; but she was charged to settle and 
provide some conveniences which were still wanting 
for the freedom of their commerce, such as to have 
free egress and regress to her at all hours of the day 
or night. This appeared difficult to be obtained, but it 
was, however, at length accomplished. 

The governess of the maids of honour, who for the 
world would not have connived at anything that was 
not fair and honourable, consented that they should 

1672, and was buried in Westminster Abbey, 20th September 

1673. The titles reverted to the King as nearest collateral 
heir, who bestowed them on his natural son by the Duchess of 
Portsmouth, Charles Lennox, first Duke of Richmond, in August 
1675. 

^ Daughter of Charles Peliot, Lord de la Garde, whose eldest 
daughter married Sir Thomas Bond, Comptroller of the House- 
hold to the Queen Mother, and who had lent large sums of 
money to Charles II. before the Restoration. (Bond's second 
son married the niece of Jermyn, one of the heroes of these 
Memoirs). — See Collins*s Baronetage. Miss de la Garde became 
the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius, who married a second wife 
in 1677. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 241 

sup as often as they pleased in Miss Warmester's 
apartments, provided their intentions were honourable, 
and she one of the company. The good old lady was 
particularly fond of green oysters, and had no aversion 
to Spanish wine; she was certain of finding at every 
one of these suppers two barrels of oysters : one to be 
eaten with the party, and the other for her to carry 
away. As soon, therefore, as she had taken her dose 
of wine, she took her leave of the company . 

It was much about the time that the Chevalier de 
Gramont had cast his eyes upon Miss Warmester 
that this kind of life was led in her chamber. God 
knows how many ham pies, bottles of wine, and 
other products of his lordship's liberality were there 
consumed ! 

In the midst of these nocturnal festivals, and of this 
innocent commerce, a relation of Killegrew's^ came up 
to London about a lawsuit. He gained his cause, but 
nearly lost his senses. 

He was a country gentleman, who had been a wid- 
ower about six months, and was possessed of fifteen or 
sixteen thousand pounds^ a-year. The good man, who 
had no business at Court, went thither merely to see 
his cousin Killegrew, who could have dispensed with 
his visits. He there saw Miss Warmester ; and at first 
sight fell in love with her. His passion increased to 
such a degree that, having no rest either by day or 
night, he was obliged to have recourse to extraor- 
dinary remedies; he therefore early one morning 
called upon his cousin Killegrew, told him his case, 
and desired him to demand Miss Warmester in mar- 
riage for him. 

®^He has been confused with Sir Thomas Vernon, who mar- 
ried Miss Mary Kirke under similar circumstances after he 
became a widower in June 1676 (see note, p. 114). 

^Livres (Vizetelly) — a livre was about equivalent to a franc, 
which reduces the above income considerably. 



242 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Killegrew was struck with wonder and astonish- 
ment when he heard his design : nor could he cease 
wondering at what sort of creature, of all the women 
in London, his cousin had resolved upon marrying. 
It was some time before Killegrew could believe that 
he was in earnest ; but when he was convinced that he 
was, he began to enumerate the dangers and incon- 
veniences attending so rash an enterprise. He told 
him that a girl educated at Court was a terrible piece 
of furniture for the country ; that to carry her thither 
against her inclination would as effectually rob him 
of his happiness and repose as if he was transported 
to hell; that if he consented to let her stay, he needed 
only to compute what it would cost him in equipage, 
table, clothes, and gaming-money, to maintain her in 
London according to her caprices ; and then to cast up 
how long his fifteen thousand^* a-year would last. 

His cousin had already formed this computation; 
but, finding his reason less potent than his love, he re- 
remained fixed in his resolution ; and Killegrew, yield- 
ing at length to his importunities, went and offered his 
cousin, bound hand and foot, to the victorious fair. 
As he dreaded nothing more than a compliance on her 
part, so nothing could astonish him more than the con- 
tempt with which she received his proposal. The scorn 
with which she refused him, made him believe that she 
was sure of Lord Taaffe, and wonder how a girl like 
her could find out two men who would venture to 
marry her. He hastened to relate this refusal, with all 
the most aggravating circumstances, as the best news 
he could carry to his cousin ; but his cousin would not 
believe him. He supposed that Killegrew disguised the 
truth, for the same reasons he had already alleged ; and 
not daring to mention the matter any more to him, he 
resolved to wait upon her himself. He summoned all 

^* Livres. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 243 

his courage for the enterprise, and got his compHment 
by heart ; but as soon as he had opened his mouth for 
the purpose, she told him he might have saved himself 
the trouble of calling on her about such a ridiculous 
affair ; that she had already given her answer to Kille- 
grew ; and that she neither had, nor ever should have, 
any other to give, which words she accompanied with 
all the severity with which importunate demands are 
usually refused. 

He was more affected than confounded at this re- 
pulse : everything became odious to him in London, 
and he himself more so than all the rest. He there- 
fore left town, without taking leave of his cousin, 
went back to his country seat, and thinking it would 
be impossible for him to live without the inhuman fair, 
he resolved to neglect no opportunity in his power to 
hasten his death. 

But whilst, in order to indulge his sorrow, he had 
forsaken all intercourse with dogs and horses — that is 
to say, renounced all the delights and endearments of 
a country squire — the scornful nymph, who was cer- 
tainly mistaken in her reckoning, took the liberty of 
being brought to-bed in the face of the whole Court. 

An adventure so public made no small noise, as we 
may very well imagine. All the prudes at Court at once 
broke loose upon it; and those principally, whose age 
or persons secured them from any such scandal, were 
the most inveterate, and cried most loudly for justice. 
But the governess of the maids of honour, who might 
have been called to an account for it, affirmed that it 
was nothing at all, and that she was possessed of cir- 
cumstances which would at once silence all censorious 
tongues. She had an audience of the Queen, in order 
to unfold the mystery; and related to her Majesty 
how everything had passed w4th her consent, that is to 
say, upon honourable terms. 



244 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

The Queen sent to inquire of Lord Taaffe whether 
he acknowledged Miss Warmester for his wife. To 
which he most respectfully returned for answer, that 
he neither acknowledged Miss Warmester nor her 
child, and that he wondered why she should rather 
father it upon him than any other. The unfortunate 
Warmester, more enraged at this answer than at the 
loss of such a lover, quitted the Court as soon as ever 
she was able, with a resolution of quitting the world 
the first opportunity. 

Killegrew, being upon the point of setting out upon 
a journey when this adventure happened, thought he 
might as well call upon his afflicted cousin in his way, 
to acquaint him with the circumstances; and as soon 
as he saw him, without paying any attention to the 
delicacy of his love, or to his feelings, he bluntly told 
him the whole story; nor did he omit any colouring 
that could heighten his indignation, in order to make 
him burst with shame and resentment. 

We read that the gentle Tiridates quietly expired 
upon the recital of the death of Mariamne; but 
Killegrew's fond cousin, falling devoutly upon his 
knees, and lifting up his eyes to Heaven, poured forth 
this exclamation: 

"Praised be the Lord for a small misfortune, which 
perhaps may prove the comfort of my life! Who 
knows but the beauteous Warmester will now accept 
of me for a husband ; and that I may have the happi- 
ness of passing the remainder of my days with a 
woman I adore, and by whom I may expect to have 
heirs ?" "Certainly," said Killegrew, more confounded 
than his cousin ought to have been on such an occasion, 
"you may depend upon having both. I make no man- 
ner of doubt but she will marry you as soon as ever 
she is recovered from her lying-in ; and it would be a 
great ill-nature in her, who already knows the way, to 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 245 

let you want children. However, in the meantime I 
advise you to take that she has already, till you get 
more." 

Notwithstanding this raillery, all that was said did 
take place. This faithful lover courted her, as if she 
had been the chaste Lucretia, or the beauteous Helen. 
His passion even increased after marriage, and the 
generous fair, first out of gratitude, and afterwards 
through inclination, never brought him a child of 
which he was not the father; and though there have 
been many a happy couple in England, this certainly 
was the happiest. 

Some time after. Miss Bellenden, not being terrified 
by this example, had the prudence to quit the Court 
before she was obliged so to do. The disagreeable 
Bardou followed her soon after ; but for different rea- 
sons. Every person was at last completely tired of 
her saraband, as well as of her face; and the King, 
that he might see neither of them any more, gave each 
a small pension for her subsistence. There now only 
remained little Mademoiselle de la Garde to be pro- 
vided for. Neither her virtues nor her vices were 
sufficiently conspicuous to occasion her being either 
dismissed from Court, or pressed to remain there. 
God knows what would have become of her, if a Mr. 
Silvius,^ a man who had nothing of a Roman in him 

"^Afterwards Sir Gabriel Silvius. In Chamberlayne's Anglics 
Notitia, 1669, Gabriel de Sylviis is put down as one of the car- 
vers to the Queen, and Mrs. de Sylviis, one of the six chambriers 
or dressers to the Queen. He was afterwards knighted, and, 30th 
February 1680, was s'ent ambassador to the Dukes of Brunswick 
and Lunenburgh. Lord Or ford says he was a native of Orange, 
and was attached to the Princess Royal, afterwards to the Duke 
of York. H'e also says he was sent ambassador to Denmark. 
In 1677 Sir Gabriel married, secondly, Anne Howard, daughter 
of William, fourth son of the first Earl of Berkshire, and sister 
to Craven, afterwards Earl. The same year she was made lady 
of the bedchamber to the Princess Mary (see "Diary of Sir 
Thomas Lake," Camden's Miscellany, vol. i. p. 13). 



246 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

except the name, had not taken the poor girl to be 
his wife. 

We have now shown how all these damsels deserved to 
be expelled, either for their irregularities, or for their 
ugliness ; and yet, those who replaced them found means 
to make them regretted. Miss Wells'' only excepted. 

She was a tall girl, exquisitely shaped; she dressed 
very well, walked like a goddess; and yet, her face, 
though made like those that generally please the most, 
was unfortunately one of those that pleased the least : 
nature had spread over it a certain careless indolence" 
that made her look sheepish.'^ This gave but a bad 
opinion of her wit; and her wit had the ill-luck to 
make good that opinion. However, as she was fresh 
coloured, and appeared inexperienced, the King, whom 
the fair Stewart did not render over nice as to the 
perfections of the mind, resolved to try whether the 
senses would not fare better with Miss Wells's person 
than fine sentiments with her understanding. Nor was 
this experiment attended with much difficulty. She 
was of a loyal family ; and her father having faithfully 
served Charles the First, she thought it her duty not to 
revolt against Charles the Second. But this connec- 
tion was not attended with very advantageous cir- 
cumstances for herself. Some pretended that she did 
not hold out long enough, and that she surrendered at 
discretion before she was vigorously attacked; and 
others said that his Majesty complained of certain 
other facilities still less pleasing. The Duke of Buck- 
ingham made a couplet upon this occasion, wherein the 
King, speaking to Progers,'^ the confidant of his in- 
trigues, puns upon the name of the fair one. 

^® Winifred Wells was Maid of Honour to the Queen and be- 
longed to a good royalist family. 

"Vague look (Vizetelly). ^Like a musing sheep (ibid.). 

^^ Edward Progers, or Proger, was a younger son of Colonel 
Philip Progers (of the family of Garreddin, in Monmouthshire). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 247 

Miss Wells, notwithstanding a species of anagram 

upon her name, and certain remarks upon her person, 

shone the brightest among her new companions.** 

equerry to James I. He was early introduced to Court, and, after 
having been page to Charles I., was made Groom of the Bedcham- 
ber to the Prince of Wales. In the lampoons of the times, particu- 
larly in those of Andrew Marvell, he is described as one devoted 
to assist his master's pleasure ; for which reason, perhaps, he was 
banished from the King's presence in 1650, by an act of the 
estates of Scotland, " as an evil instrument and bad counsellor 
of the King." In 1660, he was named, says Walpole, one of 
the knights of the Royal Oak, an order the King then intended 
to institute. Progers obtained permission from the King to 
build a house in Bushey Park, near Hampton Court, on con- 
dition that, after his death, it should revert to the Crown. This 
was the " Upper Lodge " which stood on the site of the house 
occupied by King William IV., and here some of the Merry 
Monarch's convivial meetings took place. He represented the 
county of Brecon in Parliament for seventeen years, but retired 
in 1679. On the death of Charles, he retired from public life. 
In James II.'s reign he was in low circumstances, and applied 
to the King for relief, with what effect is not known. Progers 
had a family by his wife Elizabeth Wells (possibly Winifred's 
sister) ; and the scandal-bearers of the time remarked that his 
eldest daughter Philippa, afterwards Mrs, Croxel, bore a strong 
resemblance to Charles II. (Monumenta Anglicana, 1717, p. 2^2,). 
Mr. Progers died, says Le Neve, "31st December, or ist January 
1713-14, aged ninety-six, of the anguish of cutting teeth, he 
having cut four new teeth, and had several ready to cut, which 
so inflamed his gums, that he died thereof." When the old 
church at Hampton was pulled down, Proger's tomb now in the 
new church, was discovered beneath the reading desk. It was 
Progers who managed to abduct the young Duke of Monmouth 
from his mother, Lucy Walter (vide King Monmouth, p. 20). 

*°At a Court ball some time in January 1662-2,, and recorded 
by Pepys 8th February of that year, a child was dropped by one 
of the maids of honour, which was smuggled off in a handker- 
chief. The next day Miss Wells was missing, having fallen sick, 
says Pepys, so this misadventure was attributed to her. The 
King, who was supposed to be the father, according to the same 
authority, amused himself by dissecting this still-born boy! 
{Diary, 17th February 1662-3). On 12th June 1666 the diarist 
saw her in her riding garb, with coat, doublet, and deep skirt, 
hat and periwig exactly like a man's, the only distinction being 
a long petticoat dragging beneath the coat. It is needless to add 
that Mr. Pepys, so susceptible to beauty, did not approve of 
this costume. 

In the last 'entry but one in Pepys* Diary, 30th May 1669, he 



248 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

These were Miss Levingston,*^ Miss Fielding,*^ and 
Miss Boynton,^ who little deserve to be mentioned in 
these Memoirs; therefore we shall leave them in ob- 
scurity until it please fortune to draw them out of it. 

This was the new establishment of maids of honour 
to the Queen. The Duchess of York, nearly about 
the same time, likewise recruited hers; but showed, 
by a happier and more brilliant choice, that England 
possessed an inexhaustible stock of beauties. But 
before we begin to speak of them, let us see who were 
the first maids of honour to her Royal Highness, and 
on what account they were removed. 

mentions meeting Miss Wells in Mr. Chevin's (Chiffinch) apart- 
ments at Whitehall. He speaks of her great beauty, and pretty 
conversation, which scarcely tallies with Gramont's description. 
" I had my full gaze upon her," says Pepys, " to my great 
content." 

^ Nothing appears to be known of this lady. It has been sur- 
mised, however, that it was to her that the Earl of Chesterfield 
(Philip, second Earl) wrote one of his amatory epistles. Under 
the initials " B. L." her portrait is thus described : " Your shape 
tho' neat deserves rather to be commended than admired. Your 
motions are 'easy and allways attended with an air, that is pecu- 
liar to persons of quality. Your complexion is none of those 
faint whits [whites] that represents a Venus in the green sick- 
ness, but such as Appollo favours and visits most. Your hair 
is like Mary Magdalain's, and a pretty sullenness commonly 
shades your face; but smiles from a new fashioned mouth doe 
disperse those clouds and shew such beauties of red and white, 
that all other mouths can never prayes enough. Your eyes (tho' 
not to big) are full of fire and seem to penetrat our thoughts, 
and sometimes allso to express your own; which leads me to a 
mind that I dare hardly mention, as never having had the honour 
of your company," etc. (Letters of Philip, Earl of Chesterfield, 
pp. 153-156). 

*^Beau Fielding's sister Anne. John Verney, writmg to his 
son Ralph, 30th November 1676, says : " Sir Samuel Morland 
is lately married to handsome Fielding's sister, and saith he will 
not have a penny for portion. She is handsom'er for a woman than 
he is for a man" (Hist MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 467). Accord- 
ing to the poem, " Cullen with his Flock of Misses," she was 
among the applicants for the position held by the Duchess of 
Portsmouth when the French mistress was out of favour in 1679. 
She died February 1679-80. ** See note, p. 285. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 249 

Beside Miss Blague and Miss Price, who we have 
before mentioned, the establishment was composed of 
Miss Bagot and Miss Hobart, the president of the 
community. 

Miss Blague, who never knew the true reason of 
her quarrel with the Marquis de Brisacier, took it up 
upon that fatal letter she had received from him, where- 
in, without acquainting her that Miss Price was to 
wear the same sort of gloves and yellow riband^ as 
herself, he had only complimented her upon her hair, 
her fair complexion,*^ and her eyes marcassins. This 
word she imagined must signify something particu- 
larly wonderful, since her eyes were compared to it; 
and being desirous, some time afterwards, to know all 
the energy of the expression, she asked the meaning of 
the French word marcassin. As there are no wild 
boars in England, those to whom she addressed her- 
self told her that it signified a young pig. This scan- 
dalous simile confirmed her in the belief she entertained 
of his perfidy. Brisacier, more amazed at her change 
than she was offended at his supposed calumny, looked 
upon her as a woman still more capricious than insig- 
nificant, and never troubled himself more about her; 
but Sir Thomas Yarborough,** of as fair a complexion 
as herself, made her an offer of marriage in the height 
of her resentment, and was accepted. Chance made 
up this match, I suppose, as an experiment to try what 
such a white-*'haired union would produce. 

Miss Price was witty; and as her person was not 
very likely to attract many admirers, which, however, 

** Yellow gloves and ribands (Vizetelly's translation). 

*Fair hair and complexion (ibid.). 

**Son of Sir Nicholas Yarborough, of Snaith, Yorkshire, and 
cousin of Sir John Reresby. The character of Sir Francis 
Wronghead in Gibber's Provoked Husband is said to have been 
drawn from Sir Thomas {vide Reresby's Memoirs 1875 ed., note, 
p. 413). "Pale {ibid.). 



250 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

she was resolved to have, she was far from being coy 
when an occasion offered; she did not so much as 
make any terms. She was violent in her resentments, 
as well as in her attachments, which had exposed her 
to some inconveniences; and she had very indiscreetly 
quarrelled with a young girl whom Lord Rochester 
admired. This connection, which till then had been a 
secret, she had the imprudence to publish to the whole 
world, and thereby drew upon herself the most danger- 
ous enemy in the universe. Never did any man write 
with more ease, humour, spirit, and delicacy; but he 
was at the same time the most severe satirist. 

Poor Miss Price, who had thus voluntarily pro- 
voked his resentment, was daily exposed in some new 
shape. There was every day some new song or other, 
the subject of which was her conduct, and the burden 
her name. How was it possible for her to bear up 
against these attacks, in a Court where every person 
was eager to obtain the most insignificant trifle that 
came from the pen of Lord Rochester? The loss of 
her lover, and the discovery that attended it, was only 
wanting to complete the persecution that was raised 
against her. 

About this time died Dongan,** a gentleman of 
merit, who was succeeded by Durfort, afterwards Earl 
of Feversham,*^ in the post of lieutenant of the Duke's 

*^ Robert Dongan, Dungan, or Duncan, one of Nell Gwyn's 
early admirers, and possibly he who introduced her first to the 
stage, lieutenant in the Duke of York's Life Guards, an ap- 
pointment attributed by Etheridge to the influence of Nelly 
(see Cunningham's Story of Nell Gwyn). 

*® Louis de Duras, Earl of Feversham, a native of France, being 
son of the Duke de Duras, and brother to the last Duke of that 
name, as also to the Duke de Lorge. His mother was sister to 
the great Turenne, of the princely house of Bouillon. After the 
Restoration he came to England, was naturalised, and behaved 
with great gallantry in the sea-fight with the Dutch, in 1665. 
He then bore the name of Durfort, and the title of Marquis of 
Blancfort. By letters patent, 19th January 1672-3, he was created 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 251 

Life Guards. Miss Price having tenderly loved him, 
his death plunged her into a gulf of despair; but the 
inventory of his effects almost deprived her of her 
senses. There was in it a certain little box sealed up 
on all sides; it was addressed in the deceased's own 
handwriting to Miss Price; but instead of receiving 
it, she had not even the courage to look upon it. The 
governess thought it became her in prudence to receive 
it, on Miss Price's refusal, and her duty to deliver it 
to the Duchess herself, supposing it was filled with 
many curious and precious commodities, of which 
perhaps she might derive some advantage. Though 
the Duchess was not altogether of the same opinion, 
she had the curiosity to see what was contained in a 
box sealed up in a manner so particularly carefully, 
and therefore caused it to be opened in the presence 
of some ladies, who happened then to be in her closet. 
All kinds of love trinkets were found in it; and all 
these favours, it appeared, came from the tender- 
hearted Miss Price. It was difficult to comprehend 
how a single person could have furnished so great a 
collection ; for, besides counting the pictures, there was 
hair of all descriptions, wrought into bracelets, lockets, 
and into various other different devices, wonderful to 

Baron Duras of Holdenby, Northampton, and having married in 
1676 Mary, the eldest daughter and co-heir of Sir George Sondes, 
of Lees Court, Kent, who had been created Earl of Feversham, 
the same title was limited to him, and he succeeded to it on 
the death of his father-in-law in April 1677. Besides these 
honours. King Charles preferred him to the command of the third 
troop of Horse Guards, afterwards promoted him to the second, 
and then to the first. In 1679 he was made Master of the Horse 
to Queen Catharine, and afterwards her Lord-Chamberlain. Upon 
King James's accession he was admitted into the Privy Council, 
and was Commander-in-Chief of the forces sent against the 
Duke of Monmouth (vide'King Monmouth). After the Revolu- 
tion he continued Lord-Chamberlain to the Queen Dowager. He 
died 8th April 1709, aged sixty-eight, and was buried in the 
Savoy, in the Strand, London; but removed, 21st March 1740, to 
Westminster Abb'ey. 



252 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

see. After these were three or four packets of letters, 
of so tender a nature, and full of raptures and lan- 
guors so naturally expressed, that the Duchess could 
not endure the reading of any more than the two first. 

Her Royal Highness was sorry that she had caused 
the box to be opened in such good company; for 
being before such witnesses, she rightly judged it 
was impossible to stifle this adventure; and, at the 
same time, there being no possibility of retaining any 
longer such a maid of honour, Miss Price had her 
valuables restored to her, with orders to go and finish 
her lamentations, or to console herself for the loss of 
her lover, in some other place.* 

Miss Hobart's^^ character was at that time as un- 
common in England, as her person was singular, in a 
country where, to be young, and not to be in some 
degree handsome, is a reproach ; she had a good shape, 
rather a bold air, and much wit, which was well culti- 
vated, without having much discretion. She was like- 
wise possessed of a considerable amount of vivacity, 
with an irregular fancy. There was a great deal of 
fire in her eyes, which, however, produced no effect 
upon the beholders ; and she had a tender heart, whose 
sensibility some pretended was alone in favour of the 
fair sex. 

Miss Bagot*" was the first that gained her tenderness 
and affection, which she returned at first with equal 

^Miss Price was Maid of Honour to the Queen, not the 
Duchess of York. 

"The sister of Sir John and daughter of Sir Henry Hobart, 
of Blickling, Norfolk. Sir Henry (ob. 1625) left sixteen chil- 
dren, from one of whom descended John, first Earl of Buckmg- 
hamshire (vide Diet of Nat. Biog.). 

^2 Mary, daughter of Colonel Hervey Bagot, second son of Sir 
Hervey Bagot, maid of honour to the Duchess of York, born 
1645.* She married, 1664, first, Charles Berkley, Earl of Fal- 
mouth, and, after his death (3rd June 1665), Charles Sackville, 
who became the first Duke of Dorset From the pen of a satirist 
• Her christian name has often been erroneously given as ** Elizabetk." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 253 

warmth and sincerity; but perceiving that all her 
friendship was insufficient to repay that of Miss 
Hobart, she yielded the conquest to the governess's 
niece, who thought herself as much honoured by it 
as her aunt thought herself obliged by the care she 
took of the young girl. 

Satirical ballads soon began to compliment her 
upon her new position ; and upon the insinuations that 
were therein made, her companions began to fear her. 

much dependence is not to be placed for the truth of facts. 
This lady's character is treated by Dryden and Mulgrave with 
very little respect, in the following lines, extracted from " The 
Essay on Satire": 

" Thus Dorset, purring like a thoughtful cat, 
Married ; but wiser puss ne'er thought of that : 
And first he worried her with railing rhyme, 
Like Pembroke's mastiffs at his kindest time ; 
Then for one night sold all his slavish life, 
A teeming widow, but a barren wife ; 
Swell'd by contact of such a fulsome toad, 
He lugg'd about the matrimonial load ; 
Till fortune, blindly kind as well as he. 
Has ill restored him to his liberty; 
Which he would use in his old sneaking way, 
Drinking all night, and dozing all the day ; _ 
Dull as Ned Howard,^ whom his brisker times 
Had famed for dulness in malicious rhym'es." 

Pepys (on 29th July 1667) says that there was a report that 
Henry Jermyn was going to marry Lady Falmouth, at which 
Lady Castlemaine, who at that time bestowed her favours upon 
him, was " mad.'* Jermyn, however, married the daughter of Sir 
Edward Foley. The diarist mentions her again on 4th March 
1668-9. She died 12th September 1679, and was buried at 
Wythiam, Sussex. Lady Mary Berkeley, her only daughter by 
her first husband, died in 1693 and was buried in the chancel 
of Bexley Church. She married Sir Gilbert Gerard, second 
Baron Fiskerton, from whom she obtained a divorce in 1684 (see 
Banks's Dormant and Extinct Peerage) . 

Before the Countess of Falmouth married Sackville she had 
been spoken of as a possible wife of the Duke of York after the 
death of the Duchess in 1671. At Knole Park is preserved one 
of Sackvill'e's love-letters containing a long lock of his (brown) 
hair. 

^ Edward Howard, fifth son of Thomas Howard, first Earl of Berkshire. 



254 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

The governess, alarmed at these reports, consulted 
Lord Rochester upon the danger to which her niece 
was exposed. She could not have applied to a fitter 
person. He immediately advised her to take her 
niece out of the hands of Miss Hobart; and contrived 
matters so well that she fell into his own. The 
Duchess, who had too much generosity not to treat 
as visionary what was imputed to Miss Hobart, and 
too much justice to condemn her upon the faith of 
lampoons, removed her from the society of the maids 
of honour, to be an attendant upon her own person. 

Miss Bagot was the only one who was really 
possessed of virtue and beauty among these maids of 
honour. She had beautiful and regular features, and 
that sort of brown complexion, which, when in perfec- 
tion, is SO' particularly fascinating, and more especially 
in England, where it is uncommon. There was an 
involuntary blush almost continually upon her cheek, 
without having anything to blush for. Lord Fal- 
mouth cast his eyes upon her. His addresses were 
better received than those of Miss Hobart, and some 
time after Cupid raised her from the post of maid of 
honour to the Duchess, to a rank which might have 
been envied by all the young ladies in England. 

The Duchess of York, in order to- form her new 
Court, resolved to see all the young persons that 
offered themselves, and, without any regard to recom- 
mendations, to choose none but the handsomest. 

At the head of this new assembly appeared Miss 
Jennings and Miss Temple; and indeed they so en- 
tirely eclipsed the other two, that we shall speak of 
them only. 

Miss Jennings,^' adorned with all the blooming 
treasures of youth, had the fairest and brightest com- 

^ Frances Jenyns (or Jennings), the elder sister of the more 
famous Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, who, when maid of 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 255 

plexion^ that ever was seen. Her hair was of a most 
beauteous flaxen. There was something particularly 
lively and animated in her countenance, which pre- 
served her from that insipidity which is frequently 

honour to Mary of Modena, also received the Duke of York's 
unwelcome attentions (see Louise de Keroualle, p, 153). They 
were the daughters of Richard Jenyns of Sandridge, near St. 
Albans, at whose house they were brought up. Holywell House, 
in this vicinity, was afterwards built by the Duke of Marlborough, 
and pulled down in 1837. The wife of Richard Jenyns, Frances, 
daughter of Sir Gifford Thornhurst, a Kentish baron'et, was far 
from a pleasant woman. Miss Strickland, in her Lives of the 
Queens of England, says she was not allowed to approach the 
Court on account of her infamous character, although she had 
laid Charles II. under some mysterious obligation (xii. p. 206). 
In the Belvoir MS., under date 23rd November 1676, however, it 
appears otherwise. Sarah and her mother, it is stated, actually 
came to blows, and the daughter threatened to run away if the 
mother was not ejected from St. James's, and when this was 
requested at the Duchess of York's instigation, she answered 
"with all her heart she should never dispute the Duke and 
Dutchess'es commands, but with the grace of God she would take 
her daughter away with her, for two of the maids had had great 
bellies att Court, and she would not leave her child there to 
have a third, so rather than part with her, the mother must stay." 
But a month later it appears that " Sarah Jennings hath got the 
better of her mother, who is commanded to leave the Court and 
her daughter in itt, notwithstanding the mother's petition that 
she might have her girle with her, the glrle saying she is a mad 
woman" (25th December). — Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 12, App. part 
V. vol. ii, pp. 32 and 34. Frances married, first, George Hamilton, 
and secondly, " Dick " Talbot, of whom full particulars are given 
in the Memoirs. By the latter she left two daughters. By Ham- 
ilton six children (the three daughters being Vicountesses Ross, 
Dillon, and Kingsland). Talbot, Duke of Tyrconnel, and wife 
were both staunch Jacobites, and directed James's affairs in 
Ireland when he visited that country prior to the battle of the 
Boyne. The royal fugitive and Talbot returned to Dublin Castle, 
where the Duchess received the Stuart monarch prior to his 
return to France. The story is told that James being the first 
to arrive, his Majesty ungraciously complimented Lady Tyr- 
connel on the running powers of her husband's countrymen, at 
which she retorted that his Majesty had the advantage of them 
(Diet, of Nat. Biog. vol. Iv. p. 335). After her husband's death 
of apoplexy, August 1691, while preparing to defend Limerick 
against King William (by some accounts he was poisoned in 
a cup of ratafia), the titular Duchess joined the exiled Court 



256 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

an attendant on a complexion so extremely fair. Her 
mouth was not the smallest, but it was the hand- 
somest mouth in the world. Nature had endowed her 
with all those charms which cannot be expressed, and 
the graces had given the finishing stroke to them. The 
turn^^ of her face was exquisitely fine, and her swell- 
ing neck^^ was as fair and as bright as her face. In a 
word, her person gave the idea of Aurora, or the god- 
dess of the spring, "such as youthful poets fancy when 
they love.'' But as it would have been unjust that a 
single person should have engrossed all the treasures 
of beauty without any defect, there was something 
wanting in her hands and arms to render them worthy 
of the rest; her nose was not the most elegant, and 
her eyes gave some relief, whilst her mouth and her 
other charms pierced the heart with a thousand darts. 
With this amiable person she was full of wit and 
sprightliness, and all her actions and motions were 
unaffected and easy. Her conversation was bewitch- 
ing, when she had a mind to please; piercing^^ and 
delicate when disposed to raillery ; but as her imagina- 
tion was subject to flights, and as she frequently began 

at St. Germain, and received a pension with other needy 
Jacobites. When her brother, the Duke of Marlborough, was 
in Flanders, she had frequent access to him and acted as his 
agent. Walpole's story of the widowed Duchess selling haber- 
dashery at a stall under the New Exchange is very doubtful (vide 
Pennant's London). She, however, returned to England in 1705, 
when Holywell House was put at her disposal by her brother-in- 
law, and afterwards, obtaining the restoration of some of her 
husband's property, she settled in Dublin, wh'ere she estab- 
lished a nunnery in King Street, and died 6th March 1730-1 (in 
her eighty-second year) in Paradise Row, near Phoenix Park. 
There is no monument to her memory in St, Patrick's Cathedral, 
but in the Scottish College at Paris (destroyed in i860) there 
was a mural tablet to her memory, which is quoted in Steinman's 
Althorp Memoirs, pp. 72-73 (see also Jameson's Beauties of the 
Court of Charles II.) 

"A skin of the most dazzling whiteness (Vizetelly's trans- 
lation). ^^ Outline (Vizetelly). 

"Budding bosom {ibid.). ^Subtle (ibid.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 257 

to speak before she had done thinking, her expressions 
did not always convey what she wished; sometimes 
exceeding, and at others falling short of her ideas."* 

Miss Temple,^ nearly of the same age, was brown** 
compared with the other. She had a good shape, fine 

*®The French Ambassador Courtin describes her (4th May 
1665) as "one of the fairest girls in England. . . . She is small 
but with a fine figure, a splendid complexion, the hair such as 
you [Lionne] remember Madame de Longueville's was, brilliant 
keen eyes, the whitest, smoothest skin I ever saw." The young 
Marquis di Berni (eldest son of Hugues de Lionne, Foreign 
Secretary to King Louis), having been sent by his father to 
the English Court under the wing of the French Ambassador 
that he might obtain some knowledge of the world, soon after 
his arrival fell a slave to the charms of Miss Jenyns, who on 
her part was far from indifferent Under the watchful eye 
of the King, the Queen Mother, Duchess of York, and Court 
generally, the little romance is allowed to develop, while the 
father is assured by Courtin that he will check the liaison if 
necessary, saying **his intrigue is exactly at the point where it 
must be to make him a man of the world." There were daily 
meetings, and love tokens sent in the shape of strawberries to 
the fair one. At length, however, there is a tiff. Miss Jenyns 
refuses to have her hands kissed, and her lover retaliates by 
making advances to Miss Boynton (who also figures in the 
Memoirs), which has the desired effect and brings the former 
lady to reason.^ At the end of three months the love story is 
over; young Lionne's sojourn in London was at an end. On 
27th July (1665) the father hears from Courtin that on "Thurs- 
day evening the King of England teased very much in my pres- 
ence Mrs. Genins [Jenyns] on the subject of your son : the young 
girl reddened : she never appeared more beautiful. His Majesty 
told me that your son had asked M. Porter* to let him know 
how she looked on the day he was gone, and at the same time 
his Majesty assured me that he had never seen such a picture 
of sadness and desolation as the young gallant offered when 
on board the yacht of the Queen Mother. He was right, I can 
tell you, for the young ladjr loved him dearly, and if the one 
who reduced you to the taking of certain waters flavouring of 
turpentine had been as beautiful, your stomach would not have 
been easily restored to health" (see Jusserand*s Ambassador at 
the Court of Charles JI, pp. IS3-I57). 

*Anne, daughter of Thomas Temple of Frankton, Warwick- 
shire; by Rebecca, daughter of Sir Nicholas Carew, of Bedding- 
ton, Surrey, knight She became the second wife of Sir Charles 
Lyttelton, by whom she had five sons and eight daughters iob, 
* Probably Charles or Tbonas Porter, nendoned in Pepys*s Diary. 



258 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

teeth, languishing eyes, a fresh complexion, an agree- 
able smile, and a lively air. Such was the outward 
form; but it would be difficult to describe the rest; 
for she was simple and vain, credulous and suspicious, 
coquettish and prudent/^ very self-sufficient and very 
silly. 

As soon as these new stars appeared at the 
Duchess's Court, all eyes were fixed upon them, and 
everyone formed some design upon one of them or 
the other^ some with honourable, and others with dis- 
honest intentions. Miss Jennings soon distinguished 
herself, and left her companions no other admirers 
but such as remained constant from hopes of success. 
Her brilliant charms attracted at first sight, and the 
charms of her wit secured her conquests. 

The Duke of York having persuaded himself that 
she was part of his property, resolved to pursue his 
claim by the same title whereby his brother had 
appropriated to himself the favours of Miss Wells; 
but he did not find her inclined to enter into his 
service, though she had engaged in that of the Duchess. 
She would not pay any attention to the perpetual 
ogling with which he at first attacked her. Her eyes 
were always wandering on other objects, when those 
of his Royal Highness were looking for them; and if 
by chance he caught any casual glance, she did not 
even blush. This made him resolve to change his 
manner of attack: ogling having proved ineffectual, 
he took an opportunity to speak to her ; and this was 
still worse. I know not in what strain he told his 

1718). On the accession of James II., Sir Charles was made 
Brigadier-General. He succeeded to the baronetcy on the death 
of his brother, Sir Henry Lyttelton, who died in 1693 Sir 
Charles died at Hagley in 1716, aged eighty-six. His son Thomas 
married also a Miss Temple (maid of honour), the daughter ot 
Sir Richard Temple of Stowe, Bucks. 
*"Dark (Vizetelly). «' Prudish {ibid.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 259 

case; but it is certain the oratory of the tongue was 
not more prevaiHng than the eloquence of his eyes. 

Miss Jennings had both virtue and pride, and the 
proposals of the Duke were consistent with neither 
the one nor the other. Although from her great vi- 
vacity one might suppose that she was not capable of 
much reflection, yet she had furnished herself with 
some very salutary maxims for the conduct of a young 
person of her age. The first was, that a lady ought 
to be young to enter the Court with advantage, and 
not old to leave it with a good grace; that she could 
not maintain herself there but by a glorious resistance, 
or by illustrious foibles; and that, in so dangerous a 
situation, she ought to use her utmost endeavours not 
to dispose of her heart until she gave her hand. 

Entertaining such sentiments, she had far less trou- 
ble to resist the Duke's temptations than to disengage 
herself from his perseverance. She was deaf to all 
treaties for a settlement, with which her ambition 
was sounded; and all offers of presents succeeded still 
worse. What was then to be done to conquer an 
extravagant virtue that would not hearken to reason? 
He was ashamed to suffer a giddy young girl to 
escape, whose inclinations ought in some manner to 
correspond with the vivacity that shone forth in all 
her actions, and who nevertheless thought proper to 
be serious when no such thing as seriousness was re- 
quired of her. 

After he had attentively considered her obstinate 
behaviour, he thought that writing might perhaps suc- 
ceed, though ogling, speeches, and embassies had 
failed. Paper receives everything, and it unfortunate- 
ly happened that she would not receive the paper. 
Every day billets, containing the tenderest expressions, 
and most magnificent promises, were slipped into her 
pockets, or into her muff. This, however, could not be 
9 — ^Memoirs Vol, 4 



26o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

done unpercelved ; and the malicious little gipsy** took 
care that those who saw them slip in, should likewise 
see them fall out, unperused and unopened; she only 
shook her muff, or pulled out her handkerchief; as 
soon as ever his back was turned, his billets fell about 
her like hailstones, and whoever pleased might take 
them up. The Duchess was frequently a witness of 
this conduct, but could not find in her heart to chide 
her for her want of respect to the Duke. After this, 
the charms and prudence of Miss Jennings were the 
only subjects of conversation in the two Courts: the 
courtiers could not comprehend how a young creature^ 
brought directly from the country to Court, should 
so soon become its ornament by her attractions, and 
its example by her conduct. 

The King was of opinion that those who had at- 
tacked her had ill-concerted their measures; for he 
thought it unnatural that she should neither be tempted 
by promises, nor gained by importunity: she, espe- 
cially, who in all probability had not imbibed such 
severe precepts from the prudence of her mother, who 
had never tasted anything more delicious than the 
plums and apricots of St. Albans.** Being resolved 
to try her himself, he was particularly pleased with 
the great novelty that appeared in the turn of her wit, 
and in the charms of her person; and curiosity, which 
at first induced him to make the trial, was soon changed 
into a desire of succeeding in the experiment. God 
knows what might have been the consequence, for he 
greatly excelled in wit, and besides he was king: two 
qualities of no small consideration. The resolutions 
of the fair Jennings were commendable, and very 
judicious; but yet she was wonderfully pleased with 

•^Creature (Vizetelly). 

** Sandridge, where the Jennings family lived, is 2^ miles to 
the N. E. of St. Albans. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 261 

wit; and royal majesty prostrate at the feet of a 
young person is very persuasive. Miss Stewart, how- 
ever, would not consent to the King's project. 

She immediately took the alarm, and desired his 
Majesty to leave to the Duke, his brother, the care of 
tutoring the Duchess's maids of honour, and only to 
attend to the management of his own flock, unless 
his Majesty would in return allow her to listen to 
certain proposals of a settlement which she did not 
think disadvantageous. This menace being of a seri- 
ous nature, the King obeyed; and Miss Jennings had 
all the additional honour which arose from this 
adventure; it both added to her reputation, and in- 
creased the number of her admirers. Thus she con- 
tinued to triumph over the liberties of others without 
ever losing her own. Her hour was not yet come, 
but it was not far distant, the particulars of which 
we shall relate as soon as we have given some account 
of the conduct of her companion. 

Though Miss Temple's person was particularly 
charming, it was nevertheless eclipsed by that of Miss 
Jennings; but she was still more excelled by the 
other's superior mental accomplishments. Two per- 
sons, very capable to impart understanding, had the 
gift been communicable, undertook at the same time 
to rob her of the little she really possessed : these were 
Lord Rochester and Miss Hobart. The first began 
to mislead her by reading to her all his compositions, 
as if she alone had been a proper judge of them. He 
never thought proper to flatter her upon her personal 
accomplishments; but told her that if Heaven had 
made him susceptible of the impressions of beauty, it 
would not have been possible for him to have escaped 
her chains; but not being, thank God, affected with 
anything but wit, he had the happiness of enjoying 
the most agreeable conversation in the world without 



262 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

running any risk. After so sincere a confession he 
either presented to her a copy of verses, or a new song, 
in which whoever dared to come in competition in any 
respect with Miss Temple was laid prostrate before her 
charms, most humbly to solicit pardon. Such flat- 
tering insinuations so completely turned her head that 
it was a pity to see her. 

The Duchess took notice of it, and well knowing 
the extent of both their geniuses, she saw the precipice 
into which the poor girl was running headlong with- 
out perceiving it; but as it is no less dangerous to 
forbid a connection that is not yet thought of, than it 
is difficult to put an end to one that is already well 
established, Miss Hobart was charged to take care, 
with all possible discretion, that these frequent and 
long conversations might not be attended with any 
dangerous consequences. With pleasure she accepted 
the commission, and greatly flattered herself with 
achieving success. 

She had already made all necessary advances to 
gain possession of her confidence and friendship ; and 
Miss Temple, less suspicious of her than of Lord 
Rochester, made all imaginable returns. She was 
greedy of praise, and loved all manner of sweetmeats, 
as much as a child of nine or ten years old : her taste 
was gratified in both these respects. Miss Hobart 
having the superintendence of the Duchess's baths, her 
apartment joined them, in which there was a closet 
stored with all sorts of sweetmeats and liqueurs. The 
closet suited Miss Temple's taste, as exactly as it 
gratified Miss Hobart's inclination, to have something 
that could allure her. 

Summer, being now returned, brought back with it 
the pleasures and diversions that are its inseparable 
attendants. One day, when the ladies had been taking 
the air on horseback. Miss Temple, on her return from 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 263 

riding, alighted at Miss Hobart's in order to recover 
her fatigue at the expense of the sweetmeats, which 
she knew were there at her service; but before she 
began she desired Miss Hobart's permission to undress 
herself, and change her linen in her apartment, which 
request was immediately complied with. "I was just 
going to propose it to you," said Miss Hobart, ''not but 
that you are as charming as an angel in your riding 
habit; but there is nothing so comfortable as a loose 
dress, and being at one's ease. You cannot imagine, 
my dear Temple," continued she, embracing her, "how 
much you oblige me by this free unceremonious con- 
duct; but, above all, I am enchanted with your par- 
ticular attention to cleanliness. How greatly you 
differ in this, as in many other things, from that silly 
creature Jennings! Have you remarked how all our 
Court fops admire her for her brilliant complexion, 
which perhaps, after all, is not wholly her own; and 
for blunders, which are truly original, and which they 
are such fools as to mistake for wit. I have not 
conversed with her long enough to perceive in what 
her wit consists ; but of this I am certain, that if it is 
not better than her feet, it is no great matter. What 
stories have I heard of her sluttishness. No cat ever 
dreaded water so much as she does : fie upon her ! 
Never to wash for her own comfort, and only to attend 
to those parts which must necessarily be seen, such as 
the neck and hands." 

Miss Temple swallowed all this with even greater 
pleasure than the sweetmeats ; and the officious Hobart 
not to lose time, was helping her off with her clothes, 
while the chamber-maid was coming. She made some 
objections to this at first, being unwilling to occasion 
that trouble to a person who, like Miss Hobart, had 
been advanced to a place of dignity; but she was 
overruled by her, and assured that it was with the 



264 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

greatest pleasure she showed her that small mark of 
civility. The collation being finished and Miss Temple 
undressed : *Tet us retire," said Miss Hobart, "to the 
bathing-closet, where we may enjoy a little conversa- 
tion secure from any impertinent visit." Miss Temple 
consented, and both of them sitting down on a couch : 
"You are too young, my dear Temple," said she, "to 
know the baseness of men in general, and too short a 
time acquainted with the Court to know the character 
of its inhabitants. I will give you a short sketch of 
the principal persons^ to the best of my knowledge, 
without injury to any one; for I abominate the trade 
of scandal. 

"In the first place, then, you ought to set it down 
as an undoubted fact that all courtiers are deficient 
either in honesty, good sense, judgment, wit, or sin- 
cerity; that is to say, if any of them by chance possess 
some one of these qualities, you may depend upon 
It he is defective in the rest: sumptuous in their 
equipages, deep play, a great opinion of their own 
merit, and contempt of that of others, are their chief 
characteristics. 

"Interest or pleasure are the motives of all their 
actions. Those who are led by the first would sell God 
Almighty, as Judas sold his Master, and that for less 
money. I could relate you a thousand noble instances 
of this, if I had time. As for the sectaries of pleasure, 
or those who pretend to be such, for they are not all so 
bad as they endeavour to make themselves appear, 
these gentlemen pay no manner of regard either to 
promises, oaths, law, or religion; that is to say, they 
are literally no respecters of persons ; they care neither 
for God nor man, if they can but gain their ends. They 
look upon maids of honour only as amusements, placed 
expressly at Court for their entertainment; and the 
®* Gentlemen (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 265 

more merit any one has, the more she is exposed to 
their impertinence, if she gives any ear to them; and 
to their malicious calumnies, when she ceases to attend 
to them. As for husbands, this is not the place to find 
them ; for unless money or caprice make up the match, 
there is but little hope of being married: virtue and 
beauty in this respect here are equally useless. Lady 
Falmouth is the only instance of a maid of honour 
well married without a portion; and if you were to 
ask her poor weak husband for what reason he mar- 
ried her, I am persuaded that he can assign none, 
unless it be her great red ears and broad feet. As for 
the pale Lady Yarborough, who appeared so proud of 
her match, she is wife, to be sure, of a great country 
bumpkin, who, the very week after their marriage, 
bid her take her farewell of the town for ever, in con- 
sequence of five or six thousand^ pounds a year he 
enjoys on the borders of Cornwall. Alas ! poor Miss 
Blague! I saw her go away about this time twelve- 
month, in a coach with four such lean horses, that I 
cannot believe she is yet halfway to her miserable little 
castle. What can be the matter! all the girls seem 
afflicted with the rage of wedlock, and however small 
their portion of charms may be, they think it only 
necessary to show themselves at Court in order to 
pick and choose their men ; but were this in reality the 
case, being a wife is the most wretched condition imag- 
inable for a person of nice sentiments. Believe me, 
my dear Temple, the pleasures of matrimony are so 
inconsiderable in comparison with its inconveniences, 
that I cannot imagine how any reasonable creature can 
resolve upon it: rather fly, therefore, from this irk- 
some engagement than court it. Jealousy, formerly a 
stranger to these happy isles, is now coming into fash- 
ion, with many recent examples of which you are ac- 
•Some few hundned (Vizetell/s translation). 



266 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

quainted. However brilliant the phantom may appear, 
suffer not yourself to be caught by its splendour, and 
never be so weak as to transform your slave into your 
tyrant : as long as you preserve your own liberty, you 
will be mistress of that of others. I will relate to you 
a very recent proof of the perfidy of man to our sex, 
and of the impunity they experience in all attempts 
upon our innocence. The Earl of Oxford"" fell in love 
with a handsome, graceful actress belonging to the 
Duke's Theatre, who performed to perfection, par- 
ticularly the part of Roxana,"^ in a very fashionable 
new play, insomuch that she ever after retained that 
name. This creature being both very virtuous and 
very modest, or, if you please, wonderfully obstinate, 
proudly rejected the addresses and presents of the Earl 
of Oxford. This resistance inflamed his passion. He 

"This was Aubrey de Vere, the twentieth and last Earl of Ox- 
ford of that nam'e. In the reign of Charles II. he was Chief 
Justice in Eyre of the Royal Forests, Lord of the Bedchamber, 
Privy Councillor, Colonel of the Royal Regiment of Horse 
Guards, and Lord-Lieutenant of the County of Essex ; and, in 
the reign of William III,, Li'eutenant-General of the Forces. He 
died I2th March 1702-3, aged seventy-five, and was buried in 
Westminster Abbey (see Malone's edition of Dry den). From 
1663 to 1676 the Earl lived in the Piazza, Covent Garden. 

®'^This should be " Roxalana," a character in the Siege of 
Rhodes, acted prior to 9th January 1661-2 by Betty Davenport, 
the younger of two sisters of that name. Evelyn mentions hav- 
ing seen " ye faire and famous comedian " in the piece before 
she was " taken to be the Earl of Oxford's misse," which sad 
occurrence is bewailed by Pepys (i8th February and 20th May 
1661-2). The elder sister, Frances Davenport, remained on the 
stage until 1668, when she also went " to be kept by somebody, 
which I am glad of," says Pepys (7th April 1668), "she being a 
very bad actor." " Roxalana " was aged eighteen (born 3rd 
March 1642) at the time the scandalous mock-marriage removed 
her from the Duke's Theatre. She had a son, afterwards called 
Aubrey Vere, by the Earl of Oxford, born 17th April 1664. The 
Countess of Dunois, who relates at some length the sad story 
of Roxalana's seduction, says that when she discovered that 
she had been duped, she tried to put an end to her life with 
her betrayer's sword. She further says, Roxalana "attempted 
to make her marriage good in law, but the power of the Earl 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 267 

had recourse to invectives, and even to spells; but all 
in vain. This disappointment had such effect upon 
him that he could neither eat nor drink. This did not 
signify to him; but his passion at length became so 
violent, that he could neither play nor smoke. In this 
extremity Love had recourse to Hymen. The Earl of 
Oxford, one of the first peers of the realm, is, you 
know, a very handsome man : he is of the Order of the 
Garter, v^^hich greatly adds to an air naturally noble. 
In short, from his outward appearance, you would 
suppose he was really possessed of some sense; but 
soon as ever you hear him speak, you are perfectly 
convinced of the contrary. This passionate lover pre- 
sented her with a promise of marriage, in due form, 
signed with his own hand. She would not, however, 
rely upon this, but the next day she thought there 
could be no danger, when the Earl himself came to 
her lodgings attended by a clergyman, and another 
man for a witness. The marriage was accordingly 
solemnised with all due ceremonies, in the presence 
of one of her fellow-players, who attended as a wit- 
ness on her part. You will suppose, perhaps, that the 
new Countess had nothing to do but to appear at 
Court according to her rank, and to display the Earl's 
arms upon her carriage. This was far from being 
the case. When examination was made concerning 
the marriage, it was found to be a mere decep- 
tion. It appeared that the pretended priest was 
one of my lord's trumpeters, and the witness his 
kettle-drummer. 

carry'd it above the poor actress. However, he was forced to 
allow her a maintenance and to provide for a son she brought 
into the world" (see Memoirs of the Court of England, 1707, 
pp. 448-449). By an error in the translation of the Memoirs, 
the story has been associated with " Roxana " of The Rival 
Queens, produced and acted by the more famous actress, Mrs. 
Marshall, at the King's Theatre (see Sir Wm. Davenant's Works, 
1873, iii. 252, etc.). 



26S THE COURT OF CHARLES U 

The parson and his companion never appeared after 
the ceremony was over; and as for the other witness, 
they endeavoured to persuade her, that the Sultana 
Roxana must have supposed, in some part or other of 
a play, that she was really married. It was all to no 
purpose that the poor creature claimed the protection 
of the laws of God and man, both which were violated 
and abused, as well as herself, by this infamous im- 
position. In vain did she throw herself at the King's 
feet to demand justice : she had only to rise up again 
without redress ; and happy might she think herself to 
receive an annuity of one thousand crowns, and to 
resume the name of Roxana, instead of Countess of 
Oxford. You will say, perhaps, that she was only a 
player; that all men have not the same sentiments 
as the Earl; and, that one may at least believe them, 
when they do but render justice to such merit as yours. 
But still do not believe them, though I know you are 
liable to it, as you have admirers; for all are not 
infatuated with Miss Jennings. The handsome Sidney 
ogles you ; Lord Rochester is delighted with your con- 
versation; and the most serious Sir Charles Lyttelton 
forsakes his natural gravity in favour of your charms. 
As for the first, I confess his figure is very likely to 
engage the inclinations of a young person like your- 
self; but were his outward form attended with other 
accomplishments, which I know it is not, and that his 
sentiments in your favour were as real as he en- 
deavours to persuade you they are, and as you deserve, 
yet I would not advise you to form any connections 
with him, for reasons which I cannot tell you at 
present. 

*'Sir Charles Lyttelton" is undoubtedly in earnest, 

* Sir Charles Lyttelton, seventh son of Thomas Lyttelton and 
brother of Sir Henry Lyttelton, the second Baronet. He fought 
for th*e Royalist cause at the siege of Colchester, battle of Worces- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 269 

since he appears ashamed of the condition to which 
you have reduced him; and I really believe if he could 
get the better of those vulgar chimerical apprehensions, 
of being what is vulgarly called a cuckold, the good 
man would marry you, and you would be his repre- 
sentative in his little government, where you might 
merrily pass your days in casting up the weekly bills 
of housekeeping, and in darning old napkins. What 
a glory would it be to have a Cato for a husband, 
whose speeches are as many lectures, and whose lec- 
tures are composed of nothing but ill-nature and 
censure ! 

"Lord Rochester is, without contradiction, the most 
witty man in all England; but then he is likewise 
the most unprincipled, and devoid even of the least 
tincture of honour ; he is dangerous to our sex alone ; 
and that to such a degree that there is not a woman 
who gives ear to him three times, but she irretrievably 
loses her reputation. No woman can escape him, for 
he has her in his writings, if his other attacks be in- 
effectual ; and in the age we live in, the one is as bad 
as the other in the eye of the public. In the meantime 
nothing is more dangerous than the artful insinuating 
manner with which he gains possession of the mind. 
He applauds your taste, submits to your sentiments, 
and at the very instant that he himself does not believe 
a single word of what he is saying, he makes you 
believe it all. I dare lay a wager, that from the con- 
versation you have had with him, you thought him 
one of the most honourable and sincerest men living; 
for my part I cannot imagine what he means by the 
assiduity he pays you : not but your accomplishments 
are sufficient to excite the adoration and praise of the 

ter, and in Sir George Booth's rising in Cheshire, and after- 
wards joined Charles II, in exile. Knighted 1662, afterwards 
colonel in the Duke of York's regiment. See also note, p. 257. 



270 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

whole world f^ but had he even been so fortunate as 
to have gained your affections, he would not know 
what to do with the loveliest creature at Court ; for it 
is a long time since his debauches, with the assistance 
of the favours of all the common street-walkers, have 
brought him to order. See then, my dear Temple, 
what horrid malice possesses him, to the ruin and 
confusion of innocence! A wretch! to have no other 
design in his addresses and assiduities to Miss Temple, 
but to give a greater air of probability to the calumnies 
with which he has loaded her. You look upon me with 
astonishment, and seem to doubt the truth of what I 
advance; but I do not desire you to believe me with- 
out evidence. Here," said she, drawing a paper out 
of her pocket, "see what a copy of verses he has made 
in your praise, while he lulls your credulity to rest, by 
flattering speeches and feigned respect." 

After saying this, the perfidious Hobart showed her 
half a dozen couplets full of strained invective and 
scandal, which Rochester had made against the former 
maids of honour. This severe and stinging lampoon 
was principally levelled against Miss Price, whose 
person he cut to pieces in the most frightful and 
hideous manner imaginable. Miss Hobart had sub- 
stituted the name of Temple instead of Price, which 
she made to agree both with the measure and tune 
of the song. This effectually answered Hobart's 
intentions. 

The credulous Temple no sooner heard her sing the 
lampoon, but she firmly believed it to be made upon 
herself ; and in the first transports of her rage, having 
nothing so much at heart as to give the lie to the fic- 
tions of the poet : *'Ah ! as for this, my dear Hobart," 
said she, 'T can bear it no longer. I do not pretend to 

"^You are formed in a way to deserve the homage of every 
one (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 271 

be so handsome as some others ; but as for the defects 
that villain charges me with, I daresay, my dear 
Hobart, there is no woman more free from them. We 
are alone, and I am almost inclined to convince you by 
ocular demonstration/' Miss Hobart was too com- 
plaisant to oppose this motion; but, although she 
soothed her mind by extolling all her beauties, in 
opposition to Lord Rochester's song, Miss Temple was 
almost driven to distraction by rage and astonishment, 
that the first man she had ever attended to, should, in 
his conversation with her, not even have made use of 
a single word of truth, but that he should likewise 
have the unparalleled cruelty falsely to accuse her of 
defects; and not being able to find words capable of 
expressing her anger and resentment, she began to 
weep like a child.'" 

Miss Hobart used all her endeavours to comfort 
her, and chid her for being so much hurt with the 
invectives of a person whose scandalous impostures 
were too well known to make any impression. She, 
however, advised her never to speak to him any more, 
for that was the only method to disappoint his de- 
signs; that contempt and silence were, on such occa- 
sions, much preferable to any explanation, and that if 
he could once obtain a hearing, he would be justified, 
but she would be ruined. 

Miss Hobart was not wrong in giving her this coun- 
sel. She knew that an explanation would betray her, 
and that there would be no quarter for her if Lord 
Rochester had so fair an opportunity of renewing his 
former panegyrics upon her; but her precaution was 
in vain. This conversation had been heard from one 
end to the other by the governess's niece,'^ who was 
blessed with a most faithful memory; and having that 

'"Like one distracted (Viz'etelly). 
'^ Sarah Cooke. See note, p. 284. 



272 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

very day an appointment with Lord Rochester, she 
conned it over three or four times, that she might not 
forget one single word, when she should have the 
honour of relating it to her lover. We shall show in 
the next chapter what were the consequences resulting 
from it. 



CHAPTER X 

THE conversation before related was agreeable 
only to Miss Hobart; for if Miss Temple was 
entertained with its commencement, she was so 
much the more irritated by its conclusion. This in- 
dignation was succeeded by the curiosity of knowing 
the reason why, if Sidney^ had a real esteem for her, 
she should not be allowed to pay some attention to 
him. The tender-hearted Hobart, unable to refuse her 
any request, promised her this piece of confidence, as 
soon as she should be secure of her conduct towards 
Lord Rochester. For this she only desired a trial of 
her sincerity for three days, after which, she assured 
her, she would acquaint her with everything she 
wished to know. Miss Temple protested she no longer 
regarded Lord Rochester but as a monster of per- 
fidiousness, and vowed, by all that was sacred, that 
she would never listen to him, much less speak to him, 
as long as she lived. 

As soon as they retired from the closet. Miss Sarah 
came out of the bath, where, during all this conversa- 
tion, she had been almost perished with cold, without 
daring to complain. This little gipsy' had, it seems, 
obtained leave of Miss Hobart's woman' to bathe her- 
self unknown to her mistress ; and having, I know not 
how, found means to fill one of the baths with cold 
water. Miss* Sarah had just got into it, when they 
were both alarmed with the arrival of the other two. A 

* Henry (" the handsome ") Sidney. 'Creature (Vizetelly). 
*Maid (ibid.). * Little Sarah (ibid.). 

273 



274 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

glass partition enclosed the room where the baths 
were, and Indian silk curtains, which drew on the 
inside, screened those that were bathing. Miss 
Hobart's chamber-maid had only just time to draw 
these curtains that the girl might not be seen, to lock 
the partition door, and to take away the key, before 
her mistress and Miss Temple came in. 

These two sat down on a couch placed along the 
partition, and Miss Sarah, notwithstanding her alarms, 
had distinctly heard, and perfectly retained the whole 
conversation. As the little girl was at all this trouble 
to make herself clean, only on Lord Rochester's ac- 
count, as soon as ever she could make her escape she 
regained her garret; where Rochester, having re- 
paired thither at the appointed hour, was fully in- 
formed of all that had passed in the bathing-room. 
He was astonished at the audacious temerity of 
Hobart, in daring to put such a trick upon him; but, 
though he rightly judged that love and jealousy were 
the real motives, he would not excuse her. Little 
Sarah desired to know whether he had a real affection 
for Miss Temple, as Miss Hobart said she supposed 
that was the case. *'Can you doubt it," replied he, 
"since that oracle of sincerity has affirmed it? But 
then you know that I am not now capable of profiting 
by my perfidy, were I even to gain Miss Temple's 
compliance, since my debauches and the street-walkers 
have brought me to order." 

This answer made Miss Sarah very easy, for she 
concluded that the first article was not true, since she 
knew from experience that the latter was false. Lord 
Rochester was resolved that very evening to attend 
the Duchess's Court, to see what reception he would 
meet with after the fine portrait Miss Hobart had been 
so kind as to draw of him. Miss Temple did not fail 

''China (ibid.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 275 

to be there likewise, with the intention of looking on 
him with the most contemptuous disdain possible, 
though she had taken care to dress herself as well as 
she could. As she supposed that the lampoon Miss 
Hobart had sung to her was in everybody's possession, 
she was under great embarrassment lest all those whom 
she met should think her such a monster as Lord 
Rochester had described her. In the meantime, Miss 
Hobart, who' had not much confidence in her promises 
never more to speak to him, narrowly watched her. 
Miss Temple never in her life appeared so handsome : 
every person complimented her upon it; but she re- 
ceived all the civilities with such an air, that every one 
thought she was mad; for when they commended her 
shape, her fresh complexion, and the brilliancy of her 
eyes : 'Tshaw," said she, "it is very well known that 
I am but a monster, and formed in no respect like 
other women : all is not gold that glisters ; and though 
I may receive some compliments in public, it signifies 
nothing." All Miss Hobart's endeavours to stop her 
tongue were ineffectual ; and continuing to rail at her- 
self ironically, the whole Court was puzzled to com- 
prehend her meaning. 

When Lord Rochester came in, she first blushed, 
then turned pale, made a motion to go towards him, 
drew back again, pulled her gloves one after the other 
up to the elbow ; and after having three times violently 
flirted her fan, she waited until he paid his compli- 
ments to her as usual, and as soon as he began to 
bow, the fair one immediately turned her back upon 
him. Rochester only smiled, and being resolved that 
her resentment should be still more remarked, he 
turned round, and posting himself face to face : 
"Madam," said he, "nothing can be so glorious as to 
look so charming as you do, after such a fatiguing 
day : to support a ride of three long hours, and Miss 



2^^^ THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Hobart afterwards, without being tired, shows indeed 
a very strong* constitution." ' 

Miss Temple had naturally a tender look, but she 
was transported with such a violent passion at his 
having the audacity to speak to her, that her eyes 
appeared like two fire-balls when she turned them 
upon him. Hobart pinched her arm, as she perceived 
that this look was likely to be followed by a torrent 
of reproaches and invectives. 

Lord Rochester did not wait for them, and delaying 
until another opportunity the acknowledgments he 
owed Miss Hobart, he quietly retired. The latter, who 
could not imagine that he knew anything of their 
conversation at the bath, was, however, much alarmed 
at what he had said; but Miss Temple, almost choked 
with the reproaches with which she thought herself 
able to confound him and which she had not time 
to give vent to, vowed to ease her mind of them 
upon the first opportunity, notwithstanding the prom- 
ise she had made; but never more to speak to him 
afterwards. 

Lord Rochester had a faithful spy' near these 

nymphs : this was Miss Sarah, who, by his advice, 

and with her aunt's consent, was reconciled with Miss 

Hobart, the more effectually to betray her. He was 

informed by this spy that Miss Hobart's maid, being 

suspected of having listened to them in the closet, 

had been turned away; that she had taken another, 

whom in all probability she would not keep long, 

because, in the first place, she was ugly, and, in the 

second, she ate the sweetmeats that were prepared 

for Miss Temple. Although this intelligence was not 

very material, Sarah was nevertheless praised for her 

* Burnet mentions one of Roch'ester's spy systems, a footman 
disguised as a sentinel placed so as to keep watch upon the 
nocturnal assignations of the Court ladies (Own Time, vol. i. 
p. 372). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 2^^ 

punctuality and attention; and a few days afterwards 
she brought him news of real importance. 

Rochester was by her informed that Miss Hobart 
and her new favourite designed, about nine o'clock in 
the evening, to walk in the Mall, in the Park; that 
they were to change clothes with each other, to put 
on scarfs, and wear black masks ; she added that Miss 
Hobart had strongly opposed this project, but that 
she was obliged to give way at last, Miss Temple 
having resolved to indulge her fancy. 

Upon the strength of this intelligence, Rochester 
concerted his measures. He went to Killegrew, com- 
plained to him of the trick which Miss Hobart had 
played him, and desired his assistance in order to be 
revenged. This was readily granted, and having ac- 
quainted him with the measures he intended to pursue, 
and given him the part he was to act in this adventure, 
they went to the Mall. 

Presently after appeared our two nymphs in mas- 
querade. Their shapes were not very different, and 
their faces, which were very unlike each other, were 
concealed with their masks. The company was but 
thin in the Park; and as soon as Miss Temple per- 
ceived them at a distance, she quickened her pace 
in order to join them, with the design, under her dis- 
guise, severely to reprimand the perfidious Rochester; 
when Miss Hobart stopping her, said: "Where are 
you running to ? Have you a mind to engage in con- 
versation with these two devils, to be exposed to all 
the insolence and impertinence for which they are so 
notorious?" These remonstrances were entirely use- 
less. Miss Temple was resolved to try the experi- 
ment; and all that could be obtained from her was, 
not to answer any of the questions Rochester might 
ask her. 

They were accosted just as they had done speaking. 



278 THE COURT OF CHARLES II ' 

Rochester fixed upon Hobart, pretending to take her i 

for the other, at which she was overjoyed; but Miss 
Temple was extremely sorry she fell to Killegrew's 
share, with whom she had nothing to do. He perceived 
her uneasiness, and, pretending to know her by her 
clothes: "Ah! Miss Hobart," said he, "be so kind 
as to look this way if you please. I know not by what 
chance you both come hither, but I am sure it is very 
apropos for you, since I have something to say to you, l| 

as your friend and humble servant." 

This beginning raising her curiosity. Miss Temple 
appeared more inclined to attend to him; and Kille- 
grew perceiving that the other couple had insensibly 
proceeded some distance from them : "In the name of 
God," said he, "what do you mean by railing so 
against Lord Rochester, whom you know to be one of 
the most honourable men at Court, and whom you 
nevertheless described as the greatest villain to the 
person whom of all others he esteems and respects 
the most? What do you think would become of you, 
if he knew that you made Miss Temple believe she is 
the person alluded to in a certain song, which you 
know as well as myself was made upon the clumsy 
Miss Price, above a year before the fair Temple was 
heard of? Be not surprised that I know so much 
of the matter; but pay a little attention, I pray you, 
to what I am now going to tell you out of pure friend- 
ship: your passion and inclinations for Miss Temple 
are known to every one but herself; for whatever 
methods you used to impose upon her innocence, the 
world does her the justice to believe that she would 
treat you as Lady Falmouth did, if the poor girl knew 
the wicked designs you had upon her. I caution you, 
therefore, against making any further advances to a 
person too modest to listen to them. I advise you 
likewise tO' take back your maid again, in order to 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 279 

silence her scandalous tongue ; for she says everywhere 
that she is with child, that you are the occasion of her 
being in that condition, and accuses you of behaving 
towards her with the blackest ingratitude, upon trifling 
suspicions only. You know very well, these are no 
stories of my own invention; but that you may not 
entertain any manner of doubt that I had all this 
from her own mouth, she has told me your conversa- 
tion in the bathing-room, the characters you there 
drew of the principal men at Court, your artful malice 
in applying so improperly a scandalous song to one 
of the loveliest women in all England; and in what 
manner the innocent girl fell into the snare you had 
laid for her, in order to do justice to her charms. But 
that which might be of the most fatal consequences 
to you in that long conversation is the revealing cer- 
tain secrets, which, in all probability, the Duchess did 
not entrust you with, to be imparted to the maids of 
honour; reflect upon this, and neglect not to make 
some reparation to Sir Charles Lyttelton for the ridi- 
cule with which you were pleased to load him. I 
know not whether he had his information from your 
femme de chamhre, but I am very certain that he 
has sworn he will be revenged, and he is a man that 
keeps his word; for after all, that you may not be 
deceived by his look, like that of a Stoic, and his 
gravity, like that of a judge, I must acquaint you 
that he is the most passionate man living. Indeed, 
these invectives are of the blackest and most horrible 
nature. He says it is most infamous that a wretch 
like yourself should find no other employment than to 
blacken the characters of gentlemen to gratify your 
jealousy; that if you do not desist from such conduct 
for the future, he will immediately complain of you; 
and that if her Royal Highness will not do him jus- 
tice, he is determined to do himself justi-se, and to 



28o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

run you through the body with his own sword, though 
you were even in the arms of Miss Temple ; and that 
it is most scandalous that all the maids of honour 
should get into your hands before they can look 
around them. 

"These things, madam, I thought it my duty to 
acquaint you with. You are better able to judge than 
myself, whether what I have now advanced be true, 
and I leave it to your own discretion to make what 
use you think proper of my advice ; but were I in your 
situation, I would endeavour to reconcile Lord Roch- 
ester and Miss Temple. Once more I recommend to 
you to take care that your endeavours to mislead her 
innocency, in order to blast his honour, may not come 
to his knowledge; and do not estrange from her a 
man who tenderly loves her, and whose probity is so 
great, that he would not even suffer his eyes to wan- 
der towards her, if his intention was not to make her 
his wife." 

Miss Temple observed her promise most faithfully 
during this discourse. She did not even utter a single 
syllable, being seized with such astonishment and con- 
fusion, that she quite lost the use of her tongue. 

Miss Hobart and Lord Rochester came up to her 
while she was still in amazement at the wonderful 
discoveries she had made ; things in themselves, in her 
opinion, almost incredible, but to the truth of which 
she could not refuse her assent, upon examining the 
evidences and circumstances on which they were 
founded. Never was confusion equal to that with 
which her whole frame was seized by the foregoing 
recital. 

Rochester and Killegrew took leave of them before 
she recovered from her surprise; but as soon as she 
had regained the free use of her senses, she hastened 
back to St. James's, without answering a single ques- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 281 

tion that the other put to her ; and having locked her- 
self up in her chamber, the first thing she did was 
immediately to strip off Miss Hobart's clothes, lest she 
should be contaminated by them; for after what she 
had been told concerning her, she looked upon her 
as a monster, dreadful to the innocence of the fair sex, 
of whatever sex she might be. She blushed at the 
familiarities she had been drawn into with a creature, 
whose maid was with child, though she never had been 
in any other service but hers. She therefore returned 
her all her clothes, ordered her servant to bring back 
all her own, and resolved never more to have any con- 
nection with her. Miss Hobart, on the other hand, 
who supposed Killegrew had mistaken Miss Temple 
for herself, could not comprehend what could induce 
her to give herself such surprising airs since that con- 
versation; but being desirous to come to an explana- 
tion, she ordered Miss Temple's maid to remain in her 
apartments, and went to call upon Miss Temple her- 
self, instead of sending back her clothes ; and being de- 
sirous to give her some proof of friendship before 
they entered upon expostulation, she slipt softly into 
her chamber, when she was in the very act of chang- 
ing her linen, and embraced her. But Miss Temple, 
disengaging herself with the highest indignation from 
her arms, began to shriek and cry in the most terrible 
manner, calling both heaven and earth to her assist- 
ance. 

The first whom her cries raised were the governess 
and her niece. It was near twelve o'clock at night. 
Miss Temple, in her shift, almost frightened to death, 
was pushing back with horror Miss Hobart, who ap- 
proached her with no other intent than to know the 
occasion of those transports. As soon as the gov- 
erness saw this scene, she began to lecture Miss Hobart 
with all the eloquence of a real duenna. She demanded 



282 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

of her, whether she thought it was for her that her 
Royal Highness kept the maids of honour? whether 
she was not ashamed to come at such an unseasonable 
time of night into their very apartments to commit 
such violences? and swore that she would, the very 
next day, complain to the Duchess. All this confirmed 
Miss Temple in her mistaken notions; and Hobart 
was obliged to go away at last, without being able 
to convince or bring to reason creatures, whom she 
believed to be either distracted or mad. The next 
day Miss Sarah did not fail to relate this adven- 
ture to her lover, telling him how Miss Temple's 
cries had alarmed the maids of honour's apartment, 
and how herself and her aunt, running to her as- 
sistance, had almost surprised Miss Hobart in the 
very act. 

Two days after, the whole adventure, with the 
addition of several embellishments, was made public. 
The governess swore to the truth of it, and related in 
every company what a narrow escape Miss Temple 
had experienced, and that Miss Sarah, her niece, had 
preserved her honour, because, by Lord Rochester's 
excellent advice, she had forbidden her all manner of 
connection with so dangerous a person. Miss Temple 
was afterwards informed, that the song that had so 
greatly provoked her alluded to Miss Price only. This 
was confirmed to her by every person, with additional 
execrations against Miss Hobart for such a scandalous 
imposition. Such great coldness after so much famil- 
iarity made many believe that this adventure was not 
altogether a fiction. 

This had been sufficient to have disgraced Miss 
Hobart at Court, and to have totally ruined her reputa- 
tion in London, had she not been, upon the present, 
as well as upon a former occasion, supported by the 
Duchess. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 283 

Her Royal Highness pretended to treat the whole 
story as romantic and visionary, or as solely aris- 
ing from private pique. She chid Miss Temple for 
her impertinent credulity; turned away the governess 
and her niece for the lies with which she pretended 
they supported the imposture ; and did many improper 
things in order to re-establish Miss Hobart's honour, 
which, however, she failed in accomplishing. She had 
her reasons for not entirely abandoning her, as will 
appear in the sequel. 

Miss Temple, who continually reproached herself 
with injustice, with respect to Lord Rochester, and 
who, upon the faith of Killegrew's word, thought him 
the most honourable man in England, was only solicit- 
ous to find out some opportunity of easing her mind, 
by making him some reparation for the rigour with 
which she had treated him. These favourable disposi- 
tions, in the hands of a man of his character, might 
have led to consequences of which she was not aware; 
but Heaven did not allow him an opportunity of prof- 
iting by them. 

Ever since he had first appeared at Court he seldom 
failed being banished from it, at least once in the year ; 
for whenever a word presented itself to his pen, or 
to his tongue, he immediately committed it to paper, 
or produced it in conversation, without any manner 
of regard to the consequences. The ministers, the 
mistresses, and even the King himself, were frequently 
the subjects of his sarcasms ; and had not the Prince, 
whom he thus treated, been possessed of one of the 
most forgiving and gentle tempers, his first disgrace 
had certainly been his last. 

Just at the time that Miss Temple was desirous of 
seeing him, in order to apologise for the uneasiness 
which the infamous calumnies and black aspersions 
of Miss Hobart had occasioned both of them, he was 



284 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

forbid the Court for the third time. He departed 
without having seen Miss Temple, carried the dis- 
graced governess dov^n with him to his country seat, 
and exerted all his endeavours to cultivate in her niece 
some dispositions which she had for the stage; but 
though she did not make the same improvement in 
this line as she had by his other instructions, after 
he had entertained both the niece and the aunt for 
some months in the country, he got her entered in 
the King's company of comedians the next winter; 
and the public was obliged to him for the prettiest, 
but, at the same time, the worst actress in the 
kingdom/ 

About this time Talbot returned from Ireland. He 
soon felt the absence of Miss Hamilton, who was then 
in the country with a relation, whom we shall men- 
tion hereafter. A remnant of his former tenderness 
still subsisted in his heart, notwithstanding his ab- 
sence, and the promises he had given the Chevalier de 
Gramont at parting. He now therefore endeavoured 
to banish her entirely from his thoughts, by fixing his 
desires upon some other object; but he saw no one in 
the Queen's new Court whom he thought worthy of 

' Sarah Cooke, an actress of the King's House, who spoke the 
prologue on the first night of Rochester's Valentinian, and the 
new prologue on the second night.. She is mentioned in the 
State Poems (1703, p. 136) by Dryden (Malone, ii. p. 24) and 
Etherege (Add. MSS. No. 11,513). Prologues and epilogues 
were her particular province. The Annotations of early editions 
of the Memoirs have in error identified " Sarah " with Elizabeth 
Barry, who did not appear on the stage until 1673, whfereas the 
incidents related by Gramont do not go beyond September 1669. 
Barry owed her introduction to the stage to Rochester, where she 
made her first appearance at the age of fifteen, before which 
she was maid to Lady Skelton. The Earl bet that in six months 
he would make her the most popular actress on the stage. Mary 
of Modena so approved her acting that she gave her her wedding 
and coronation robes. Rochester is said to have had a child 
by Barry, on whom he settled an annuity of £40 (vide Diet, of 
Nat. Biography, vol. iii. pp. 317-319). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 285 

his attention. Miss Boynton,* however, thought him 
worthy of hers. Her person was slender and dehcate, 
to which a good complexion and large motionless eyes 
gave at a distance an appearance of beauty that van- 
ished upon nearer inspection. She affected to lisp, to 
languish, and to have two or three fainting-fits a day. 
The first time that Talbot cast his eyes upon her she 
was seized with one of these fits ; he was told that she 
swooned away upon his account: he believed it and 
was eager to afford her assistance ; and ever after that 
accident showed her some kindness, more with the 
intention of saving her life, than to express any affec- 
tion he felt for her. This seeming tenderness was well 
received, and at first she was visibly affected by it. 
Talbot was one of the tallest men in England, and in 
all appearance one of the most robust ; yet she showed 
sufficiently that she was willing to expose the delicacy 
of her constitution to whatever might happen, in order 
to become his wife; which event perhaps might then 
have taken place, as it did afterwards, had not the 
charms of the fair Jennings at that time proved an 
obstacle to her wishes. 

I know not how it came to pass that he had not yet 
seen her; though he had heard her much praised, and 
her prudence, wit, and vivacity equally commended. 
He believed all this upon the faith of common report. 
He thought it very singular that discretion and 
sprightliness should be so intimately united in a per- 
son so young, more particularly in the midst of a 
Court where love and gallantry were so much in 

^Katherine, eldest daughter and co-heir of Colonel Mathew 
Boynton (killed Wigan fight, 1651), son of Sir Mathew Boynton, 
Bart., of Barnston, Yorkshire, Maid of Honour to Queen Cather- 
ine (vide Pepys, 26th October 1664), She was the first wife of 
Colonel Richard Talbot, Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke 
of York. She died 17th March 1678, and was buried in Christ- 
church Cathedral, Dublin. Her only daughter was buried in the 
same grave in June 1684. 



286 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

fashion; but he found her personal accomplishments 
greatly to exceed whatever fame had reported of them. 

As it was not long before he perceived he was in 
love, neither was it long before he made a declaration 
of it. As his passion was likely enough to be real, 
Miss Jennings thought she might believe him, without 
exposing herself to the imputation of vanity. Talbot 
was possessed of a fine and brilliant exterior; his 
manners were noble and majestic : besides this, he was 
particularly distinguished by the favour and friend- 
ship of the Duke; but his most essential merit, with 
her, was his forty^ thousand pounds a-year, landed 
property, besides his employments. All these qualities 
came within the rules and maxims she had resolved to 
follow with respect to lovers. Thus though he had not 
the satisfaction to obtain from her an entire declaration 
of her sentiments, he had at least the pleasure of being 
better received than those who had paid their addresses 
to her before him. 

No person attempted to interrupt his happiness ; and 
Miss Jennings, perceiving that the Duchess approved 
of Talbot's pretensions, and after having well weighed 
the matter, and consulted her own inclinations, found 
that her reason was more favourable to him than her 
heart, and that the most she could do for his satisfac- 
tion was to marry him without reluctance. 

Talbot, too fortunate in a preference which no man 
had before experienced, did not examine whether it was 
to her heart or to her head that he was indebted for 
it, and his thoughts were solely occupied in hastening 
the accomplishment of his wishes. One would have 
sworn that the happy minute was at hand; but love 
would no longer be love, if he did not delight in ob- 
structing, or in overturning the happiness of those 
who live under his dominion. 

® Couple of thousand (Vizetelly's translation). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 287 

Talbot, who found nothing reprehensible either in 
the person, in the conversation, or in the reputation of 
Miss Jennings, was however rather concerned at a new 
acquaintance she had lately formed ; and having taken 
upon him to give her some cautions upon this subject, 
she was much displeased at his conduct. 

Miss Price, formerly maid of honour, that had been 
set aside, as we have before mentioned, upon her leav- 
ing the Duchess's service, had recourse to Lady Cas- 
tlemaine's protection. She had a very entertaining 
wit : her complaisance was adapted to all humours, and 
her own humour was possessed of a fund of gaiety 
and sprightliness which diffused universal mirth and 
merriment wherever she came. Her acquaintance with 
Miss Jennings was prior to Talbot's. 

As she was thoroughly acquainted with all the in- 
trigues of the Court, she related them without any 
manner of reserve to Miss Jennings, and her own with 
the same frankness as the others. Miss Jennings was 
extremely well pleased with her stories; for though 
she was determined to make no experiment in love, 
but upon honourable terms, she however w^as desirous 
of knowing from her recitals all the different intrigues 
that were carrying on. Thus, as she was never 
wearied with her conversation, she was overjoyed 
whenever she could see her. 

Talbot, who remarked the extreme relish she had 
for Miss Price's company, thought that the reputation 
such a woman had in the world might prove injurious 
to his mistress, more especially from the particular 
intimacy there seemed to exist between them. Where- 
upon, in the tone of a guardian rather than a lover, he 
took upon him to chide her for the disreputable com- 
pany she kept. Miss Jennings was haughty beyond 
conception, when once she took it into her head; and 
as she liked Miss Price's conversation much better 



288 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

than Talbot's, she took the liberty of desiring him "to 
attend to his own affairs, and that if he only came 
from Ireland to read lectures about her conduct, he 
might take the trouble to go back as soon as he 
pleased." He was offended at a sally which he thought 
ill-timed, considering the situation of affairs between 
them, and went out of her presence more abruptly 
than became the respect due from a man greatly in 
love. He for some time appeared offended; but per- 
ceiving that he gained nothing by such conduct, he 
grew weary of acting that part, and assumed that of 
an humble lover, in which he was equally unsuccess- 
ful; neither his repentance nor submissions could 
produce any effect upon her, and the mutinous little 
gipsy" was still in her pouts when Jermyn returned 
to Court 

It was above a year since he had triumphed over 
the weakness of Lady Castlemaine, and above two 
since the King had been weary of his triumphs. His 
uncle, being one of the first who perceived the King's 
disgust, obliged him to absent himself from Court, at 
the very time that orders were going to be issued for 
that purpose; for though the King's affections for 
Lady Castlemaine were now greatly diminished, yet 
he did not think it consistent with his dignity that a 
mistress, whom he had honoured with public distinc- 
tion, and who still received a considerable support 
from him, should appear chained to the car of the most 
ridiculous conqueror that ever existed. His Majesty 
had frequently expostulated with the Countess upon 
this subject; but his expostulations were never at- 
tended to. It was in one of these differences that, he 
advising her rather to bestow her favours upon Jacob 
Hall, the rope-dancer, who was able to return them, 
than lavish away her money upon Jermyn to no pur- 
"Refractory little thing (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 289 

pose, since it would be more honourable for her to 
pass for the mistress of the first, than for the very- 
humble servant of the other, she was not proof against 
his raillery. The impetuosity of her temper broke 
forth like lightning; she told him "that it very ill be- 
came him to throw out such reproaches against one, 
who, of all the women in England, deserved them the 
least; that he had never ceased quarrelling thus un- 
justly with her, ever since he had betrayed his own 
mean, low inclinations; that to gratify such a depraved 
taste as his, he wanted only such silly things as 
Stewart, Wells, and that pitiful strolling^ actress,*^ 
whom he had lately introduced into their society." 
Floods of tears, from rage, generally attended these 
storms ; after which, resuming the part of Medea, the 
scene closed with menaces of tearing her children in 
pieces, and setting his palace on fire. What course 
could he pursue with such an outrageous fury, who, 
beautiful as she was, resembled Medea less than her 
dragons, when she was thus enraged? 

The indulgent monarch loved peace; and as he 
seldom contended for it on these occasions without 
paying something to obtain it, he was obliged to be at 
great expense, in order to reconcile this last rapture. 
As they could not agree of themselves, and both 
parties equally complained, the Chevalier de Gramont 
was chosen, by mutual consent, mediator of the treaty. 
The grievances and pretensions on each side were 
communicated to him, and what is very extraordinary, 
he managed so as to please them both. Here follow 
the articles of peace, which they agreed to: 

"That Lady Castlemaine should for ever abandon 
Jermyn; that as a proof of her sincerity, and the 
reality of his disgrace, she should consent to his being 
sent, for some time, into the country; that she should 

" Beggarly little (Vizetelly). " Probably Nell Gwyn. 



290 THE COURT OF. CHARLES II 

not rail any more against Miss Wells, nor storm any 
more against Miss Stewart; and this without any re- 
straint on the King's behaviour towards her; that in 
consideration of these condescensions, his Majesty 
should immediately give her the title of duchess,^' with 
all the honours and privileges thereunto belonging, 
and an addition to her pension, in order to enable her 
to support the dignity/' 

As soon as this peace was proclaimed, the political 
critics, who, in all nations, never fail to censure all 
state proceedings, pretended that the mediator of this 
treaty, being every day at play with Lady Castle- 
maine, and never losing, had for his own sake insisted 
a little too strongly upon this last article. 

Some days after she was created Duchess of Cleve- 
land, and little Jermyn repaired to his country-seat. 
However, it was in his power to have returned in a 
fortnight ; for the Chevalier de Gramont, having pro- 
cured the King's permission, carried it to the Earl of 
St. Albans. This revived the good old man; but it 
was to little purpose he transmitted it to his nephew; 
for whether he wished to make the London beauties 
deplore and lament his absence, or whether he wished 
them to declaim against the injustice of the age, or 
rail against the tyranny of the Prince, he continued 
above half a year in the country, setting up for a little 
philosopher, under the eyes of the sportsmen in the 
neighbourhood, who regarded him as an extraordi- 
nary instance of the caprice of fortune. He thought 
the part he acted so glorious, that he would have con- 
tinued there much longer had he not heard of Miss 
Jennings. He did not, however, pay much attention 
to what his friends wrote to him concerning her 
charms, being persuaded he had seen equally as great 

^'The title of Duchess of Cleveland was conferred on her 3rd 
August 1670. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 291 

in others : what was related to him of her pride and 
resistance appeared to him of far greater consequence; 
and to subdue the last, he even looked upon as an 
action worthy of his prowess ; and quitting his retreat 
for this purpose, he arrived in London at the time that 
Talbot, who was really in love, had quarrelled, in his 
opinion, so unjustly with Miss Jennings. 

She had heard Jermyn spoken of as a hero in affairs 
of love and gallantry. Miss Price, in the recital of 
those of the Duchess of Cleveland, had often men- 
tioned him, without in any respect diminishing the 
insignificancy with which fame insinuated he had con- 
ducted himself in those amorous encounters. She 
nevertheless had the greatest curiosity to see a man 
whose entire person, she thought, must be a moving 
trophy and monument of the favours and freedoms 
of the fair sex. 

Thus Jermyn arrived at the right time to satisfy 
her curiosity by his presence; and though his bril- 
liancy appeared a little tarnished by his residence in 
the country ; though his head was larger, and his legs 
more slender than usual, yet the giddy girf* thought 
she had never seen any man so perfect; and yielding 
to her destiny, she fell in love with him, a thousand 
times more unaccountably than all the others had done 
before her. Everybody remarked this change of con- 
duct in her with surprise; for they expected some- 
thing more from the delicacy of a person who, till 
this time, had behaved with so much propriety in all 
her actions. 

Jermyn was not in the least surprised at this con- 
quest, though not a little proud of it; for his heart 
had very soon as great a share in it as his vanity. 
Talbot, who saw with amazement the rapidity of this 
triumph, and the disgrace of his own defeat, was ready 
lO-Memoirs "Jennings (Vizetelly). ^^^^ ^ 



29^ THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

to die with Jealousy and spite ; yet he thought it would 
be more to his credit to die than to vent those passions 
unprofitably ; and shielding himself under a feigned 
indifference, he kept at a distance to view how far 
such an extravagant prepossession would proceed. 

In the meantime Jermyn quietly enjoyed the happi- 
ness of seeing the inclinations of the prettiest and 
most extraordinary creature in England declared in 
his favour. The Duchess, who had taken her under 
her protection ever since she had declined placing her- 
self under that of the Duke, sounded Jermyn's inten- 
tions towards her, and was satisfied with the assurances 
she received from a man, whose probity infinitely 
exceeded his merit in love. He therefore let all the 
Court see that he was willing to marry her, though, 
at the same time, he did not appear particularly de- 
sirous of hastening the consummation. Every person 
now complimented Miss Jennings upon having reduced 
to this situation the terror of husbands, and the plague 
of lovers: the Court was in full expectation of this 
miracle, and Miss Jennings of a near approaching 
happy settlement; but in this world one must have 
fortune in one's favour, before one can calculate with 
certainty upon happiness. 

The King did not generally let Lord Rochester 
remain so long in exile. He grew weary of it, and 
being displeased that he was forgotten, he posted up 
to London to wait till it might be his Majesty's 
pleasure to recall him. 

He first took up his habitation in the city, among 
the capital tradesmen and rich merchants, where 
politeness indeed is not so much cultivated as at Court; 
but where pleasure, luxury, and abundance reign with 
less confusion, and more sincerity. His first design 
was only to be initiated into the mysteries of those 
fortunate and happy inhabitants: that is to say, by 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 293 

changing his name and dress, to gain admittance to 
their feasts and entertainments; and, as occasion 
offered, to those of their loving spouses. As he was 
able to adapt himself to all capacities and humours, he 
soon deeply insinuated himself into the esteem of the 
substantial wealthy aldermen, and into the affections 
of their more delicate, magnificent, and tender ladies. 
He made one in all their feasts, and at all their as- 
semblies; and, whilst in the company of their hus- 
bands, he declaimed against the faults and mistakes 
of government ; he joined their wives in railing against 
the profligacy of the Court ladies, and in inveighing 
against the King's mistresses. He agreed with them, 
that the industrious poor were to pay for these cursed 
extravagances ; that the city beauties were not inferior 
to those of the other end of London, and yet a sober 
husband in this quarter of the town was satisfied with 
one wife ; after which, to out-do their murmurings, he 
said that he wondered Whitehall was not yet con- 
sumed by fire from Heaven, since such rakes as 
Rochester, Killegrew, and Sidney were suffered there, 
who had the impudence to assert that all married men 
in the city were cuckolds, and all their wives painted. 
This conduct endeared him so much to the cits, and 
made him so welcome at their clubs, that at last he 
grew sick of their cramming and endless invitations. 

But, instead of approaching nearer the Court, he 
retreated into one of the most obscure corners of the 
city, where, again changing both his name and his 
dress, in order to act a new part, he caused bills to be 
dispersed, giving notice of "The recent arrival of a 
famous German doctor," who, by long application and 

" Bishop Burnet confirms this account. " Being under an un- 
lucky accident, which obliged him to keep out of the way, he 
disguised himself so that his nearest friends could not have 
known him, and set up in Tower Street for an Italian mounte- 



294 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

experience, had found out wonderful secrets, and 
infallible remedies/' His secrets consisted in knowing 
. what was past, and foretelling what was to come, by 
the assistance of astrology; and the virtue of his 
remedies principally consisted in giving present relief 
to unfortunate young women in all manner of diseases, 
and all kinds of accidents incident to the fair sex, 
either from too unbounded charity to their neighbours, 
or too great indulgence to themselves. 

His first practice, being confined to his neighbour- 
hood, was not very considerable; but his reputation 
soon extending to the other end of the town, there 
presently flocked to him the women attending on the 
Court; next, the chamber-maids of ladies of quality, 
who, upon the wonders they related concerning the 
German doctor, were soon followed by some of their 
mistresses." 

Among all the compositions of a ludicrous and 
satirical kind, there never existed any that could be 
compared to those of Lord Rochester, either for 
humour, fire, or wit; but, of all his works, the most 
ingenious and entertaining is that which contains a 
detail of the intrigues and adventures in which he was 
engaged while he professed medicine and astrology in 
the suburbs of London." 

bank, where he practised physic for some weeks, not without 
success. In his latter years he read books of history more. He 
took pleasure to disguise himself as a porter, or as a beggar; 
sometimes to follow some mean amours, which for the variety 
< of them, he affected. At other times, merely for diversion, he 
would go about in odd shapes, in which he acted his part so 
naturally, that even those who were in the secret, and saw him 
in these shapes, could perceive nothing by which he might be dis- 
covered" (Burnet's Life of Rochester, ed. 1774, p. 14). 

Rochester's speech, when he practised the mountebank, Alex- 
ander Bendo, at a goldsmith's house in Tower Street, " next door 
to the Black Swan," is given in detail in the above volume. 

" This was probably prior to 26th May 1665. 

" Vide footnote, p. 210. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 295 

The fair Jennings was very near getting a place in 
this collection; but the adventure that prevented her 
from it did not, however, conceal from the public her 
intention of paying a visit to the German doctor. 

The first chamber-maids that consulted him were 
only those of the maids of honour, who had number- 
less questions to ask, and not a few doubts to be re- 
solved, both upon their own and their mistresses' 
accounts. Notwithstanding their disguise, he recog- 
nised some of them, particularly Miss Temple's and 
Miss Price's maids, and the one whom Miss Hobart 
had lately discarded. These creatures all returned 
either filled with wonder and amazement, or petrified 
with terror and fear. Miss Temple's chamber-maid 
deposed that he assured her she and her mistress 
would have the smallpox, within two months at 
farthest, if her aforesaid mistress did not guard 
against a man in woman's clothes. Miss Price's 
woman affirmed that, without knowing her, and only 
looking in her hand, he told her at first sight that, 
according to the course of the stars, he perceived that 
she was in the service of some good-natured lady, who 
had no other fault than loving wine and men. In 
short, every one of them, struck with some particular 
circumstance relating to their own private affairs, had 
either alarmed or diverted their mistresses with the 
account, not failing, according to custom, to em- 
bellish the truth in order to enhance the wonder. 

Miss Price, relating these circumstances one day to 
her new friend, the devil immediately tempted her to 
go in person, and see what sort of a creature this new 
magician was. This enterprise was certainly very rash ; 
but nothing was too rash for Miss Jennings, who was 
of opinion that a woman might despise appearances, 
provided she was in reality virtuous. Miss Price was 
all compliance, and thus having fixed upon this glori- 



296 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

ous resolution, they only thought of the proper means 

of putting it into execution. 

It was very difficult for Miss Jennings to disguise 

herself, on account of her excessive fair and bright 

complexion, and of something particular in her air and 

manner: however, after having well considered the 

matter, the best disguise they could think of was to 

dress themselves like orange girls/' This was no 

sooner resolved upon, but it was put in execution. 

^^ These frolics appear to have been not unfrequent with 
persons of high rank at this period. In a letter from Mr. Hen- 
shaw to Sir Robert Paston, afterwards Earl of Yarmouth, dated 
13th October 1670, we have the following account: "Last week, 
there being a faire neare Audley-end,* the Queen, the Dutchess 
of Richmond, and the Dutchess of Buckingham, had a frolick 
to disguise themselves like country^ lasses, in red petticoats, 
wastcotes, etc., and so goe see the faire. Sir Barnard Gascoign, 
on a cart jade, rode before the Queen; another stranger before 
the Dutchess of Buckingham; and Mr. Roper before Richmond. 
They had all so overdone it in their disguise, and looked so 
much more like antiques than country volk, that, as soon as they 
came to the faire, the people began to goe after them; but the 
Queen going to a booth, to buy a pair of yellow stockings for 
her sweet hart, and Sir Bernard asking for a pair of gloves sticht 
with blew, for his swe'et hart, they were soon, by their gebrish, 
found to be strangers, which drew a bigger flock about them. 
One amongst them had seen the Queen at dinner, knew her, and 
was proud of her knowledge. This soon brought all the faire 
into a crowd to stare at the Queen. Being thus discovered, 
they, as soon as they could, got to their horses; but as many of 
the faire as had horses got up, with their wives, children, sweet 
f harts, or neighbours, behind them, to get as much gape as they 
could, till they brought them to the Court gate. Thus, by ill 
conduct, was a merry frolick turned into a penancfe" (Ive's 
Select Papers, p. 39). 

Bishop Burnet says, "At this time (1668) the Court fell into 
much extravagance in masquerading: both the King and Queen, 
all the Court, went about masked, and cam'e into houses unknown, 
and danced there, with a great deal of wild frolic. In all this 
people w'ere so disguised, that, without being in the secret, none 
could distinguish them. They were carried about in hackney 
chairs. Once the Queen's chairmen, not knowing vA\o she was, 
went from her. So she was alone, and was much disturbed, and 
came to Whitehall in a hackney coach; some say in a cart" 
(Burnet's Own Time, vol. i. p. 368). 

^ Newport, Essex. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 297 

They attired themselves ahke, and, taking each a 
basket of oranges under their arms, they embarked in 
a hackney coach, and committed themselves to fortune, 
without any other escort than their own caprice and 
indiscretion. 

The Duchess was gone to the play with her sister. 
Miss Jennings had excused herself under pretence of 
indisposition : she was overjoyed at the happy com- 
mencement of their adventure; for they had disguised 
themselves, had crossed the Park, and taken their 
hackney coach at Whitehall gate, without the least 
accident. They mutually congratulated each other 
upon it, and Miss Price, taking a beginning so pros- 
perous as a good omen of their success, asked her com- 
panion what they were to do at the fortune-teller's, 
and what they should propose to him. 

Miss Jennings told her that, for her part, curiosity 
was her principal inducement for going thither; that, 
however, she was resolved to ask him, without naming 
any person, why a man, who was in love with a hand- 
some young lady, was not urgent to marry her, since 
this was in his power to do, and by so doing he would 
have an opportunity of gratifying his desires. Miss 
Price told her, smiling, that, without going to the 
astrologer, nothing was more easy than to explain the 
enigma, as she herself had almost given her a solution 
of it in the narrative of the Duchess of Cleveland's 
adventures. 

Having by this time nearly arrived at the playhouse, 
Miss Price, after a moment's reflection, said, that since 
fortune favoured them, a fair opportunity was now 
offered to signalise their courage, which was to go and 
sell oranges in the very playhouse, in the sight of the 
Duchess and the whole Court. The proposal being 
worthy of the sentiments of the one, and of the vivacity 
of the other, they immediately alighted, paid off their 



2q8 ... THE COURT OF CKARIES II 



-y 



hack, and, running through the midst of an immense 
number of coaches, with great difficulty they reached 
the playhouse door. Sidney, more handsome than the 
beautiful Adonis, and dressed more gay than usual, 
alighted just then from his coach. Miss Price went 
boldly up to him, as he was adjusting his curls; but he 
was too much occupied with his own dear self to attend 
to anything else, and so passed on without deigning to 
give her an answer. Killegrew came next, and the fair 
Jennings, partly encouraged by the other's pertness, 
advanced towards him, and offered him her basket, 
whilst Price, more used to the language, desired him 
to buy her fine oranges. "Not now," said he, looking 
at them with attention; "but if thou wilt to-morrow 
morning bring this young girl tO' my lodgings, I will 
make it worth all the oranges in London to thee;" 
and while he thus spoke to the one he chucked the 
other under the chin. These familiarities making 
little Jennings forget the part she was acting, after 
having pushed him away with all the violence she 
was able, she told him with indignation that it was 

very insolent to dare "Ha! ha!" said he, "here's 

a rarity indeed ! a young w , who, the better to sell 

her goods, sets up for virtue, and pretends innocence !" 

Price immediately perceived that nothing could be 
gained by continuing any longer in so dangerous a 
place; and, taking her companion under the arm, she 
dragged her away, while she was still in emotion^^ at 
the insult that had been offered to her. 

Miss Jennings, resolving to sell no more oranges on 
these terms, was tempted to return, without accom- 
plishing the other adventure; but Price having repre- 
sented to her the disgrace of such cowardly behaviour, 
more particularly after having before manifested so 
much resolution, she consented to go and pay the as- 
" Agitation (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 299 

trologer a short visit, so as they might be enabled to 
regain the palace before the play was ended. 

They had one of the doctor's bills for a direction, 
but there was no occasion for it ; for the driver of the 
coach they had taken told them he knew very well the 
place they wanted, for he had already carried above a 
hundred persons to the German doctor's. They were 
within half a street of his house, when fortune thought 
proper tO' play them a trick. 

Brounker^" had dined by chance with a merchant in 
that part of the city, and just as he was going away 
they ordered their coach to stop, as ill-luck would have 

^ Henry Brouncker, son of William Brouncker, and younger 
brother of William, Viscount Brouncker, President of the Royal 
Society, Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke of York and 
Cofferer (1671) to the King, Evelyn says he was ever noted 
for a hard, covetous, vicious man ; for his craft and skill at 
gaming few excelled him. Pepys describes him as one of the 
shrewdest fellows in England and a dangerous man; he further 
adds, he was " a p'estilent rogue and atheist that would have sold 
his King and country for 6d. almost, so covetous and wicked a 
rogue he is " (29th August 1667) . He kept in the Duke's good 
graces by pandering to his vices, and, according to Pepys, it was 
he who brought about the intimacy between his master and Lady 
D'enham (lOth June 1666). 

Clarendon says "he was never notorious for anything but 
the highest degree of impudence and stooping to the most in- 
famous offices " — " his abominable nature had rendered him so 
odious that it was taken notice of in Parliament," and he was 
expelled from the House of Commons (see Continuation of 
Clarendon, p. 270 ; see also Lister's Life of Clarendon, ii. 3:34, 
335). Pepys speaks of his impeachment and of his flight in co"n- 
sequ'ence (21st April 1668), but, ere six months had elapsed, he 
was in favour again at Court (see 4th November 1668). 

Brouncker's country house, mentioned in the Memoirs, was 
formerly a religious house of some note, viz. Sheen Abbey, 
Richmond. It stood in the Park a little distance north-west of 
the Palace, and close to the site of the present observatory. The 
Abbey was converted into a private residence in Evelyn's time. 
On 27th August 1678 the diarist " din'd at Mr. Hen. Brouncker's 
at the Abbey of Sheene, formerly a monastery of Carthusians, 
there yet remaining one of their solitary cells with a crosse. 
Within this ample inclosure are several pretty villas and fine 
gardens of the most excellent fruites." In course of time this 



300 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

it, just opposite to him. Two orange girls in a hack- 
ney coach, one of whom appeared to have a very pretty 
face, immediately drew his attention; besides, he had 
a natural curiosity for such objects. 

Of all the men at Court, he had the least regard for 
the fair sex, and the least attention to their reputation. 
He was not young, nor was his person agreeable ; how- 
ever, with a great deal of wit, he had a violent passion 
for women. He did himself justice respecting his own 
merit ; and, being persuaded that he could only succeed 
with those who were desirous of having his money, he 
was at open war with all the rest. He had a little 
country-house four or five miles from London always 
well stocked with girls.^ In other respects he was a 
very honest man, and the best chess-player in England. 

Price, alarmed at being thus closely examined by 
the most dangerous enemy they could encounter, 
turned her head the other way, bid her companion do 
the same, and told the coachman to drive on. Broun- 
ker followed them unperceived on foot ; and the coach 
having stopped twenty or thirty yards further up the 
street, they alighted. He was just behind them, and 
formed the same judgment of them which a man much 
more charitable to the sex must unavoidably have 
done, concluding that Miss Jennings was a young 
courtesan upon the look-out, and that Miss Price was 
the mother-abbess. He was, however, surprised to 

grew into the hamlet of West Sheen, of which there are now 
no remains. 

Brouncker (who was created Doctor of Medicine at Oxford, 
23rd June 1646) married Rebecca Rodway, the widow of 
Thomas Jermyn, the brother of the Earl of St. Albans. He died 
at his residence, Sheen Abbey, 4th January 1687-8 (having suc- 
ceeded his brother in 1684 as third Viscount Brouncker), when 
the title became extinct (se'e Diet, of Nat Biography, vol. vi. 
pp. 469-470). 

^ " Brounker, Love's squire, through all the field array'd, 
No troop was better clad, nor so well paid." 

Andrew MarvelVs Poems, vol. ii. p. 94. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 301 

see them have much better shoes and stockings than 
women of that rank generally wear, and that the little 
orange girl, in getting out of a very high coach, 
showed one of the handsomest legs he had ever seen : 
but as all this was no obstruction to his designs, he 
resolved to purchase her at any rate, in order to place 
her in his seraglio.'* 

He came up to them, as they were giving their 
baskets in guard to the coachman, with orders to wait 
for them exactly in that place. Brounker immediately 
pushed in between them. As soon as they saw him, 
they gave themselves up for lost; but he, without 
taking the least notice of their surprise, took Price 
aside with one hand, and his purse with the other, 
and began immediately to enter upon business, but was 
astonished to perceive that she turned away her face, 
without either answering or looking at him. As this 
conduct appeared to him unnatural, he stared her full 
in the face, notwithstanding all her endeavours to 
prevent him. He did the same to the other ; and im- 
mediately recognised them, but determined to conceal 
his discovery. 

The old fox possessed a wonderful command of 
temper on such occasions, and having teased them a 
little longer to remove all suspicions, he quitted them. 
Upon this he went back to his coach, whilst they 
blessed themselves, returning Heaven their most 
hearty thanks for having escaped this danger without 
being discovered. 

""The date of this adventure, according to Pepys, who heard 
of it from Lady Sandwich, may be fixed at February 1664-5. 
"My Lady [Sandwich] tells me . . . what mad freaks the Maids 
of Honour at Court have: that Mrs. Jenlngs, one of the 
Duchess's mayds, the other day dressed hers'elf like an orange 
wench, and went up and down and cried oranges, till falling 
down, or by such accident . . . her fine shoes were discerned 
and she put to a great deale of shame" {Diary, 21st February 
1664-S. 



302 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Brounker, on the other hand, would not have taken 
a thousand guineas for this rencounter : he blessed the 
Lord that he had not alarmed them to such a degree 
as to frustrate their intention; for he made no doubt 
but Miss Price had managed some intrigue for Miss 
Jennings. He therefore immediately concluded, that 
at present it would be improper to make known his 
discovery, which would have answered no other end 
but to have overwhelmed them with confusion. 

Upon this account, although Jermyn was one of his 
best friends, he felt a secret joy in not having pre- 
vented his being made a cuckold before his marriage; 
and the apprehension he was in of preserving him from 
that accident was his sole reason for quitting them 
with the precautions before mentioned. 

Whilst they were under these alarms, their coach- 
man was engaged in a squabble with some blackguard 
boys, who had gathered round his coach in order to 
steal the oranges. From words they came to blows. 
The two nymphs saw the commencement of the fray 
as they were returning to the coach, after having 
abandoned the design of going to the fortune-teller's. 
Their coachman being a man of spirit, it was with 
great difficulty they could persuade him to leave their 
oranges to the mob, that they might get off without 
any further disturbance. Having thus regained their 
hack, after a thousand frights, and after having re- 
ceived an abundant share of the most low and infamous 
abuse applied to them during the fracas, they at length 
reached St. James's, vowing never more to go after 
fortune-tellers, through so many dangers, terrors, and 
alarms, as they had lately undergone. 

Brounker, who, from the indifferent opinion he 
entertained of the fair sex, would have staked his life 
that Miss Jennings did not return from this expedition 
in the same condition she went, kept his thoughts, how- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 303 

ever, a profound secret ; since it would have afforded 
him the highest satisfaction to have seen the all- 
fortunate Jermyn marry a little street-walker, who 
pretended to pass for a pattern of chastity, that he 
might, the day after his marriage, congratulate him 
upon his virtuous spouse ; but Heaven was not disposed 
to afford him that satisfaction, as will appear in the 
sequel of these Memoirs, 

Miss Hamilton was in the country, as we before 
mentioned, at a relation's. The Chevalier de Gramont 
bore this short absence of hers with great uneasiness, 
since she would not allow him permission to visit her 
there, upon any pretence whatever; but play, which 
was favourable to him, was no small relief to his 
extreme impatience. 

Miss Hamilton, however, at last returned. Mrs. 
Wetenhall^ (for that was the name of her relation) 
would by all means wait upon her to London, in 
appearance out of politeness; for ceremony, carried 
beyond all bearing, is the grand characteristic of coun- 
try gentry: yet this mark of civility was only a pre- 
tence, to obtain a peevish husband's consent to his 
wife's journey to town. Perhaps he would have done 
himself the honour of conducting Miss Hamilton up 
to London, had he not been employed in writing some 
remarks upon the ecclesiastical history, a work in 
which he had long been engaged. The ladies were 
more civil than to interrupt him in his undertakings, 
and besides, it would entirely have disconcerted all 
Mrs. Wetenhall's schemes. 

''Elizabeth, daughter of Sir Henry Bedingfield (oh. 1684), 
and wife of Thomas Whetenhall, of Hextall Court, near East 
Peckham, Kent (see Collins's Baronetage, p. 216). The family 
of Whetenhall, or Whetnall, was possessed of this estate from 
Henry VHI.'s reign. Henry Whetenhall, Esq., alienated it to 
John Fane, Earl of Westmoreland, and it afterwards was pur- 
chased by Sir William Twisden. 



304 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

This lady was what may be properly called a beauty, 
entirely English, made up of lilies and roses, of snow 
and milk, as to colour ; and of wax, with respect to the 
arms, hands, neck, and feet ; but all this without either 
animation or air. Her face was uncommonly pretty; 
but there was no variety, no change of countenance in 
it : one would have thought she took it in the morning 
out of a case, in order to put it up again at night, 
without using it in the smallest degree in the daytime. 
What can I say of her ! nature had formed her a baby'^ 
from her infancy, and a baby* remained till death the 
fair Mrs. Wetenhall. Her husband had been destined 
for the Church; but his elder brother dying just at the 
time he had gone through his studies of divinity, in- 
stead of taking orders, he came to England, and took 
to wife Miss Bedingfield, the lady of whom we are 
now speaking. 

His person was not disagreeable, but he had a seri- 
ous contemplative air, very apt to occasion disgust : as 
for the rest, she might boast of having for her husband 
one of the greatest theologists in the kingdom. He 
was all day poring over his books, and went to bed 
soon, in order to rise early; so that his wife found him 
snoring when she came to bed, and when he arose he 
left her there sound asleep. His conversation at table 
would have been very brisk, if Mrs. Wetenhall had 
been as great a proficient in divinity, or as great a lover 
of controversy, as he was; but being neither learned 
in the former, nor desirous of the latter, silence 
reigned at their table, as absolutely as at a refectory. 

She had often expressed a great desire to see Lon- 
don; but though they were only distant a very short 
day's journey from it, she had never been able to sat- 
isfy her curiosity. It was not therefore without reason 
that she grew weary of the life she was forced to lead 
•'Doll (Vizetelly). »/W. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 305 

at Peckham.'^ The melancholy retired situation of the 
place was to her insupportable; and as she had the 
folly, incident to many other women, of believing ster- 
ility to be a kind of reproach, she was very much hurt 
to see that she might fall under that suspicion; for 
she was persuaded, that although Heaven had denied 
her children, she nevertheless had all the necessary 
requisites on her part, if it had been the will of 
the Lord. 

This had occasioned her to make some reflections, and 
then to reason upon those reflections ; as for instance, 
that since her husband chose rather to devote himself 
to his studies than to the duties of matrimony, to turn 
over musty old books, rather than attend to the attrac- 
tions of beauty, and to gratify his own pleasures, 
rather than those of his wife, it might be permitted 
her to relieve some necessitous lover, in neighbourly 
charity, provided she could do it conscientiously, and 
to direct her inclinations in so just a manner, that the 
evil spirit should have no concern in it. Mr. Weten- 
hall, a zealous partisan for the doctrine of the casuists, 
would not perhaps have approved of these decisions; 
but he was not consulted. 

The greatest misfortune was, that neither solitary 
Peckham, nor its sterile neighbourhood, presented any 
expedients, either for the execution of the before-men- 
tioned design, or for the relief of poor Mrs. Weten- 
hall. She was visibly pining away, when, through 
fear of dying either with solitude or of want, she had 
recourse to Miss Hamilton's commiseration. 

''^East Peckham lies about midway between Tonbrldge and 
Maidstone, and the village is still very primitive. The church 
is perched upon high ground away from everywhere, and the 
roads leading from East and West Peckham are circuitous in 
the extreme. Hextall, which was occupied for many years as 
a farmhouse, has been rebuilt, but the stables and some old walls 
remain. 



3o6 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Their first acquaintance was formed at Paris, 
whither Mr. Wetenhall had taken his wife half a year 
after they were married, on a journey thither to buy 
books. Miss Hamilton, who from that very time 
greatly pitied her, consented to pass some time in the 
country with her, in hopes by that visit to deliver her, 
for a short time at least, out of her captivity, which 
project succeeded according to her wish. 

The Chevalier de Gramont, being informed of the 
day on which they were to arrive, borne on the wings 
of love and impatience, had engaged George Hamilton" 
to go with him, and meet them some miles out of 
London. 

The equipage he had prepared for the purpose 
corresponded with his usual magnificence; and on 
such an occasion, we may reasonably suppose he had 
not neglected his person. However, with all his im- 
patience, he checked the ardour of the coachman, 
through fear of accidents, rightly judging that upon 
a road prudence is preferable to eagerness. The ladies 
at length appeared, and Miss Hamilton, being in his 
eyes ten or twelve times more handsome than before 
her departure from London, he would have purchased 
with his life so kind a reception as she gave her 
brother. 

Mrs. Wetenhall had her share of the praises, which 
at this interview were liberally bestowed upon her 
beauty, for which her beauty was very thankful to 
those who did it so much honour; and as Hamilton 
regarded her with a tender attention, she regarded 
Hamilton as a man very well qualified for putting in 
execution the little projects she had concerted with her 
conscience. 

As soon as she was in London, her head was almost 
turned, through an excess of contentment and felicity : 
^George, second son of Sir George Hamilton. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 307 

everything appeared like enchantment to her in this 
superb city; more particularly, as in Paris she had 
never seen anything farther than the Rue Saint 
Jacques, and a few booksellers' shops. Miss Hamilton 
entertained her at her own house, and she was pre- 
sented, admired, and well received at both Courts. 

The Chevalier de Gramont, whose gallantry and 
magnificence were inexhaustible, taking occasion, from 
this fair stranger's arrival, to exhibit his grandeur, 
nothing was tO' be seen but balls, concerts, plays, ex- 
cursions by land and by water, splendid collations and 
sumptuous entertainments. Mrs. Wetenhall was trans- 
ported with pleasures, of which the greatest part were 
entirely new to her; she was greatly delighted with 
all, except now and then at a play, when tragedy was 
acted, which she confessed she thought rather weari- 
some : she agreed, however, that the show was very 
interesting, when there were many people killed upon 
the stage, but thought the players were very fine 
handsome fellows, who were much better alive than 
dead. 

Hamilton, upon the whole, was pretty well treated 
by her, if a man in love, who is never satisfied until 
the completion of his wishes, could confine himself 
within the bounds of moderation and reason. He used 
all his endeavours to determine Iier to put in execution 
the projects she had formed at Peckham. Mrs. Weten- 
hall, on the other hand, was much pleased with him. 
This is the Hamilton who served in the French army 
with distinction;'' he was both agreeable and hand- 

^^Viz. George Hamilton, who marri'ed Miss Jennings. At the 
Restoration Charles brought over with him a number of Catholic 
officers and soldiers who had served with him abroad and in- 
corporated them among his guards. Parliament, however, in- 
sisted upon their dismissal, and it was these men, with others 
enlisted in Ireland, who accompanied Hamilton to France, and 
whom Louis XIV. formed into a company of English gendarmes. 
The Spanish Ambassador complained to Arlington at the time 



3o8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

some. All imaginable opportunities conspired to 
favour the establishment of an intimacy, whose com- 
mencement had been so brisk, that in all probability it 
would not languish for a conclusion; but the more he 
pressed her to it, the more her resolution began to fail, 
and a regard for some scruples, which she had not well 
weighed, kept her in suspense. There was reason to 
believe that a little perseverance would have removed 
these obstacles; yet this at the present time was not 
attempted. Hamilton, not able to conceive what could 
prevent her from completing his happiness, since in his 
opinion the first and greatest difficulties of an amour 
were already overcome with respect to the public, re- 
solved to abandon her to her irresolutions, instead of 
endeavouring to conquer them by a more vigorous at- 
tack. It was not consistent with reason to desist from 
an enterprise, where so many prospects of success 
presented themselves, for such inconsiderable ob- 
stacles; but he suffered himself to be intoxicated 
with chimeras and visions, which unseasonably cooled 
the vigour of his pursuit, and led him astray in another 
unprofitable undertaking. 

I know not whether poor Mrs. Wetenhall took the 
blame upon herself; but it is certain, she was ex- 
tremely mortified. Soon after being obliged to return 
to her cabbages and turkeys at Peckham, she went 
nearly distracted. That residence appeared a thousand 

with reference to these Irish levies. Arlington, writing to Lord 
Sandwich, October 1667, gives the reason of Hamilton's entering 
the French service as follows : — 

"Concerning the reformadoes of the guards of horse, his 
Majesty thought fit the other day to have them dismissed ac- 
cording to his promise made to Parliament at the last session. 
Mr. Hamilton had a secret overture made him, that he with those 
men should be welcome into the French service; his Majesty 
at their dismission having declared they should have leave to go 
abroad whither they pleased. They accepted of Mr. Hamilton's 
offer to carry them into France" (see Arlington's Letters, vol. i. 
p. 185, and Vizetelly's edition, il. p. 149, note). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 309 

times more dreadful to her, since she had been initiated 
into the amusements of London; but as the Queen 
was to set out within a month for Tunbridge Wells, 
she was obliged to yield to necessity, and return to 
the philosopher, Wetenhall, with the consolation of 
having engaged Miss Hamilton to come and live at her 
house, which was within ten or twelve miles of Tun- 
bridge, as long as the Court remained there. 

Miss Hamilton promised not to abandon her in her 
retirement, and further engaged to bring the Chevalier 
de Gramont along with her, whose humour and con- 
versation extremely delighted her. The Chevalier de 
Gramont, who on all occasions started agreeable rail- 
lery, engaged on his part to bring George Hamilton, 
which words overwhelmed her with blushes. 

The Court set out soon after to pass about two 
months in the place of all Europe the most rural and 
simple, and yet, at the same time, the most entertaining 
and agreeable.** 

Tunbridge is the same distance from London that 
Fontainebleau is from Paris, and is, at the season, the 
general rendezvous of all the gay and handsome of 
both sexes. The company, though always numerous, 

*° The French Ambassador, Commlnges, writes (July 1663) : 
"The Queen with her numerous Court is still at Tunbridge, 
where the waters have done nothing of what was expected. 
Well may they be called les eaux de scandale, for they nearly 
ruined the good name of the maids and of the ladies (those, 
I mean who Were there without their husbands). It took them 
a whole month, and for some more than that, to clear themselves 
and save their honour ; and it is even reported that a few of them 
are not quite out of trouble yet. For which cause the Court 
will come back in a week; one of the ladies of the Queen 
stays behind and will pay for the others. A few days will be 
spent here to gather strength, and then a new journey will be un- 
dertaken towards the Baths, eight miles distant from here. Nothing 
will be left unattempted to give an heir to the British Crown (Au- 
gust 1663). The Queen after all this physic feeling very sick, her 
doctors go about whispering the great news, but to their shame 
it turns out that the symptoms are only due to the quality of 



3IO THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

is always select: since those who repair thither for 
diversion, ever exceed the number of those who go 
thither for health. Everything- there breathes mirth 
and pleasures: constraint is banished, familiarity is 
established upon the first acquaintance, and joy and 
pleasure are the sole sovereigns of the place. 

The company are accommodated with lodgings in 
little, clean, and convenient habitations, that lie strag- 
gling and separated from each other, a mile and a 
half all round the Wells, where the company meet in 
the morning. This place consists of a long walk, 
shaded by spreading trees, under which they prom- 
enade while they are drinking the waters. On one side 
of this walk is a long row of shops, plentifully stocked 
with all manner of toys, lace, gloves, stockings, and 
where there is raffling, as at Paris, In the Foire de 
Saint Germain; on the other side of the walk Is the 
market ; and, as it is the custom here for every person 
to buy their own provisions, care is taken that nothing 
offensive appears on the stalls. Here young, fair, 
fresh-coloured country girls, with clean linen, small 
straw hats, and neat shoes and stockings, sell game, 
vegetables, flowers, and fruit: here one may live as 
one pleases : here is, likewise, deep play, and no want 
of amorous intrigues. As soon as the evening comes, 
every one quits his little palace to assemble at the 
bowling-green, where, in the open air, those who 
choose, dance upon a turf more soft and smooth than 
the finest carpet in the world. 

Lord Muskerry'" had, within two or three short 

the waters that are vitriolees" (see Jusserand's French Ambas- 
sador at the Court of Charles 11. pp. 89-90). N.B.— This visit 
to Tunbridge has been confounded with a later one in July 1666. 
^"Charles M'Carty, Viscount Muskerry, eldest son to the Earl 
of Clancarty ; " a young man," says Lord Clarendon, " of ex- 
traordinary courage and expectation, who had been colonel of 
a regiment of foot in Flanders, under the Duke, and had the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 311 

miles of Tunbridge, a very handsome seat called 
Summer-hill. Miss Hamilton, after having- spent eight 
or ten days at Peckham, could not excuse herself from 
passing the remainder of the season at his house ; and, 
having obtained leave of Mr. Wetenhall, that his lady 
should accompany her, they left the melancholy resi- 
dence of Peckham, and its tiresome master, and fixed 
their little court at Summer-hill.'^ 

They went every day to Court, or the Court came to 
them. The Queen even surpassed her usual attentions 
in inventing and supporting entertainments: she en- 
deavoured to increase the natural ease and freedom of 
Tunbridge, by dispensing with, rather than requiring, 
those ceremonies that were due to her presence; and, 
confining in the bottom of her heart that grief and 
uneasiness she could not overcome, she saw Miss 
Stewart triumphantly possess the affections of the 
King without manifesting the least uneasiness. 

Never did love see his empire in a more flourishing 
condition than on this spot: those who were smitten 
before they came to it, felt a mighty augmentation of 
their flame ; and those who seemed the least susceptible 
of love, laid aside their natural ferocity, to act in a new 

general estimation of an excellent officer** (sfee also footnote, 

p. 96). 

'^ Somerhill or Summerhill, the old stone Jacobean mansion 
(built 161 1 ) near Tonbridge, was built by the Earl of Clanricard 
(ob. 1636), who was created by James I. Baron Somerhill and 
Viscount Tonbridge, and by Charles I. Earl of St. Albans.* At 
the Commonwealth the estate was granted to President Brad- 
shaw, who died possessed of it in 1659. His natural son suc- 
ceeded to the property, but at the Restoration it was given back 
to Margaret, the grand-daughter of the Earl of St. Albans, who 
married Lord Muskerry. She died in very reduced circumstances 
in 1698, having married, secondly, John Villlers, Viscount Pur- 
beck (nephew of George, first Duke of Buckingham), and thirdly, 
" Beau " Fielding, who marri'ed the Duchess of Cleveland in her 
old age. 

* He must not be confused with Jermyn, who was created Earl of St. Albans 
at the Restoration. 



312 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

character. For the truth of the latter, we shall only 
relate the change which soon appeared in the conduct 
of Prince Rupert.** 

He was brave and courageous, even to rashness ; but 
cross-grained and incorrigibly obstinate: his genius 
was fertile in mathematical experiments, and he pos- 
sessed some knowledge of chemistry: he was polite 
even to excess, unseasonably; but haughty, and even 
brutal, when he ought to have been gentle and cour- 
teous : he was tall, and his manners were ungracious : 
he had a dry, hard-favoured visage, and a stern look, 

"^ Prince Rupert was third son of Frederick, Prince Palatine 
of the Rhine, by Elizabeth, daughter of James I., nephew to 
Charles I. and cousin to Charles IL, born 1619. From a very 
early age he was distinguished on the battlefield, where his daring 
and valour were always conspicuous, though his successes were 
marred to a great extent by his hot-headed rashness. At the 
commencement of the Civil Wars he joined Charles I. at York 
and fought with conspicuous gallantry at Edgehill, Marston 
Moor, and Naseby. By the surrender of Bristol to the enemy 
he lost his reputation as a soldier as well as the good opinion 
of his uncle, who cancelled all his commissions for this fatal 
step, which in a great measure helped to ruin the royalist cause. 
After the Restoration he became distinguished in naval warfare 
with the Dutch in 1665 and in 1673, and in later years passed 
much of his time in the study of philosophy, chemistry, mechan- 
ism, and the arts. Several inventions of much utility in warfare 
were the result of his studies, and it is well known the origin 
of mezzotint engraving was discovered by him, though the result 
of an accident. Lord Clarendon briefly summarises the char- 
acter of the valiant Prince as follows: — "He was rough and 
passionate and loved not debate; liked what was proposed as 
he liked the persons who proposed it." He died at his house in 
Spring Gardens, 29th November 1682. "I think the^ Prince was 
buried on Friday night," says John Verney, "but if he was it 
was no hindrance of the Court going to see a play" (V'erney 
' MS., Hist MS, Com. Rep. 7, Appendix, p. 480). Doctor Plot 
says Rupert was a remarkable shot, and with a horse pistol sent 
two balls successively through the weathercock on the steeple 
of Stafford Church. Mention of Prince Rupert's daughter by 
Margaret Hughes will be found in the note of her on the next 
page. He had also a son, Dudley Rupert, alias Bard, by Fran- 
cesca, daughter of Henry Bard, Viscount Bellomont. He is men- 
tioned in the Prince's will (see Wood's Fasti, vol. i. p. 268). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 313 

even when he wished to please ; but, when he was out 
of humour, his countenance was forbidding. 

The Queen had sent for the players, either that there 
might be no intermission in the diversions of the place, 
or, perhaps, to retort upon Miss Stewart, by the pres- 
ence of Nell Gwyn,"* part of the uneasiness she felt 
from hers. Prince Rupert found charms in the person 
of another player called Hughes,^ who brought down 
and greatly subdued his natural fierceness. From this 
time, adieu alembics, crucibles, furnaces, and all the 

®* Hamilton has confused this visit to Tunbridge Wells with a 
later one in July 1666, for Nell Gwyn was unknown in 1663. 

** Margaret, better known as "Peg" Hughes, one of the 
'earliest English actresses, commenced her career at the Drury 
Lane Theatre in 1663. Here she was the first Desdemona — the 
original Theodosia in Dry den's Evening's Love. Shortly before 
January 1669, when she becam'e Prince Rupert's mistress, she 
was playing " Panura " in Fletcher's Island Princess. Upon her 
return to the stage in 1676 she joined the Duke's company, and 
acted in several plays by Sedley, Behn, Ravenscroft, etc. 

" Ruperta," her daughter by the Prince, was born in 1673, and 
at his death in 1682 received a handsome provision. John Ver- 
ney, writing 29th November 1682, says : " The Prince died this 
morning at 6 o'clock. Some say he sent his garter a day or two 
ago to the King, desiring Lord Burford (Nell Gwyn's son) 
might have it with his daughter by Pegg Hughes, to which last 
two he had left all his jewels and personal estate and arrears 
due from his Majesty. His estate in Germany, which is but small, 
he has given to his son by Lady Francis Bellemont, an Irish 
lady" (Verney MS., Hist. MS, Com, Rep. 7, Appendix, p. 480). 
See also footnote, p. 312. 

By the Prince's will (dated ist December 1682) he left all his 
goods, chattels, jewels, plate, furniture, etc., and all his estates, 
etc., to William, Earl of Craven, in trust for the use and 
behoof of Margaret Hughes and her daughter, and in a book 
of accounts at the old Warwickshire seat of the Earls of 
Craven may still be seen a document signed by the actress and 
Ruperta. The latter married Emanuel Scrope Howe, by whom 
she left a daughter, Sophia Howe, who was afterwards Maid of 
Honour to Caroline, Princ*ess of Wales. 

Peg Hughes died in 1719 and was buried (15th October) at 
Lee, having resided the last part of her life at Eltham (see Lee 
Parish Registers). Some years before she lived at Brandenburgh 
House, Hammersmith, originally the seat of Sir Nicholas Crisp, 



314 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

black furniture of the forges : a complete farewell to 
all mathematical instruments and chemical specula- 
tions : sweet powder and essences were now the only 
ingredients that occupied any share of his attention. 
The impertinent gipsy'' chose to be attacked in form; 
and proudly refusing money, that in the end she might 
sell her favours at a dearer rate, she caused the poor 
Prince to act a part so unnatural, that he no longer 
appeared like the same person. The King was greatly 
pleased with this event, for which great rejoicings were 
made at Tunbridge; but nobody was bold enough to 
make it the subject of satire, though the same con- 
straint was not observed with other ridiculous per- 
sonages. 

There was dancing every day at the Queen's apart- 
ments, because the physicians recommended it, and no 
person thought it amiss: for even those who cared 
least for it, chose that exercise to digest the waters 
rather than walking. Lord Muskerry thought himself 
secure against his lady's rage for dancing. The dis- 
consolate lady seeing Miss Hamilton and Mrs. Weten- 
hall set out every morning, sometimes on horseback 
and sometimes in a coach, but ever attended by a gal- 
lant troop to conduct them to Court, and to convey 
them back, she fancied a thousand times more delights 
at Tunbridge than in reality there were, and she did 
not cease in her imagination to dance over at Sum- 
mer-hill all the country dances which she thought had 

and purchased for her by Prince Rupert. The house was pulled 
down some years ago. 

The following from the Belvoir MSS. is worthy of note. 
" One of the King's servants," says Lady Chaworth, writing to 
her brother, Lord Roos, 20th June 1670, "hath killed Mr. Hues, 
Peg Hues' brother, servant to P(rince) Robert [Rupert], upon 
a dispute whether Mrs. Nelly (Gwyn) or she was the hand- 
somer now at Windsor " {Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 12, Appendix 5, 
pt. ii. See also Diet, of Nat. Biography, vol. xxviii. p. 185). 

*^ Creature (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 315 

been danced at Tunbridge. She could no longer sup- 
port the racking torments which disturbed her mind, 
when relenting Heaven, out of pity for her pains and 
sufferings, caused Lord Muskerry to repair to London, 
and kept him there two whole days. As soon as ever 
he had turned his back, the Babylonian Princess de- 
clared her resolution to make a trip to Court. 

She had a domestic chaplain who did not want sense, 
and Lord Muskerry, for fear of accidents, had recom- 
mended her to the wholesome counsels and good pray- 
ers of this prudent divine; but in vain were all his 
preachings and exhortations to stay at home; in vain 
did he set before her eyes her husband's commands, 
and the dangers to which she would expose herself in 
her present condition. These remonstrances were alto- 
gether ineffectual. Miss Hamilton and her cousin 
Wetenhall, having the complaisance to confirm her in 
her resolution, they assisted in dressing her the next 
morning, and set out along with her. All their skill 
and dexterity were requisite to reduce her shape into 
some kind of symmetry; but, having at last pinned a 
small cushion under her petticoat on the right side, 
to counteract the untoward appearance the little infant 
occasioned by throwing itself on the left, they almost 
split their sides with laughter, assuring her at the same 
time that she looked perfectly charming. 

As soon as she appeared, it was generally believed 
that she had dressed herself in a farthingale, in order 
to make her court to the Queen ; but every person was 
pleased at her arrival. Those who were unacquainted 
with the circumstances assured her in earnest that she 
was pregnant with twins ; and the Queen, who envied 
her condition, notwithstanding the ridiculous appear- 
ance she then made, upon being told the motive of her 
journey, was determined to gratify her inclinations. 

As soon as the hour for country dances arrived, her 



3i6 THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

cousin Hamilton was appointed her partner. She made 

some faint excuses at first on account of the incon- 
venient situation she was then in, but soon suffered 
them to be overcome, in order, as she said, to show her 
duty to the Queen; and never did a woman in this 
world enjoy such complete satisfaction. 

We have already observed, that the greatest pros- 
perity is liable to the greatest change. Lady Muskerry, 
trussed up as she was, seemed to feel no manner of 
uneasiness from the motion in dancing; on the con- 
trary, being only apprehensive of the presence of her 
husband, which would have destroyed all her happi- 
ness, she danced with uncommon briskness, lest her 
ill stars should bring him back before she had fully 
satisfied herself with it. In the midst, therefore, of 
her capering in this indiscreet manner, her cushion 
came loose, without her perceiving it, and fell to the 
ground in the very middle of the first round. The 
Duke of Buckingham, who watched her,^ took it up 
instantly, wrapped it up in his coat, and, mimicking 
the cries of a new-born infant, he went about inquiring 
for a nurse for the young Muskerry among the maids 
of honour." 

This buffoonery, joined to the strange figure of the 
poor lady, had almost thrown Miss Stewart into 
hysterics ; for the Princess of Babylon, after this acci- 
dent, was quite flat on one side, and immoderately 
protuberant on the other. All those who had before 
suppressed their inclinations to laugh, now gave them- 
selves free scope, when they saw that Miss Stewart 
was ready to split her sides. The poor lady was 
greatly disconcerted: every person was officious to 
console her; but the Queen, who inwardly laughed 



S8 



' Was following her ( Vizfetelly) . 
""Pepys records a somewhat similar incident at a Court ball 
in February 1663. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 317 

more heartily than any, pretended to disapprove of 
their taking such liberties. 

Whilst Miss Hamilton and Mrs. Wetenhall en- 
deavoured to refit Lady Muskerry in another room, 
the Duke of Buckingham told the King that, if the 
physicians would permit a little exercise immediately 
after a delivery, the best .way to recover Lady Mus- 
kerry was to renew the dance as soon as ever her infant 
was replaced; this advice was approved, and accord- 
ingly put into execution. The Queen proposed, as 
soon as she appeared, a second round of country- 
dances; and Lady Muskerry accepting the offer, the 
remedy had its desired effect, and entirely removed 
every remembrance of her late mishap. 

Whilst these things were passing at the King's 
Court, that of the Duke of York took a Journey on the 
other side of London;" the pretence of this journey 
was to visit the county whose name he bore ; but love 
was the real motive. The Duchess, since her elevation, 
had conducted herself with such prudence and circum- 

^ See Sir John Reresby's Memoirs, 1875, p. 64, 5th August 1665 : 
•His Royal Highn'ess the Duke and his Duchess car.ie down 
to York. They stayed till September the 23rd, when the Duke 
went for Oxford, where the King was to meet the Parliament. 
The Duchess went not till some time after — she was a very 
handsome woman and had a great deal of wit, therefore it was 
not without reason that Mr. Sidney, the handsomest youth of his 
time, of the Duke's bedchamber, was so much in love with her 
as appeared to us all, and the Duchess not unkind to him, but 
very innocently; he was afterwards banished the Court for 
another reason, as was reported.*' Burnet mentions this transac- 
tion, and insinuates that to this cause is to be ascribed the 
Duchess's conversion (see Burnet's History of his Own Time, 
vol. i. p. 318). The following extract is from Spence's Anecdotes 
(ed. Singer, p. 329) : ***How could the Duke of York make my 
mother a papist,* said the Princess Mary to Dr. Burnet. *The 
Duke caught a man in bed with her,* said the Doctor, * and then 
had power to make her do anything.* " Pepys, referring to this 
amour, says, 17th November 1665 (by Lord Sandwich's account), 
"how the Duchess is fallen in love with her new Master of 
the Horse, one Harry Sidney." See also footnote, p. 328. 



3i8 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

spection as could not be sufficiently admired. Such 
were her manners, and such the general estimation in 
which she was held, that she appeared to have found 
out the secret of pleasing every one : a secret yet more 
rare than the grandeur to which she had been raised ; 
but, after having gained universal esteem, she was 
desirous of being more particularly beloved; or, more 
properly speaking, malicious Cupid assaulted her heart, 
in spite of the discretion, prudence, and reason, with 
which she had fortified it. 

In vain had she said to herself a hundred times, 
that if the Duke had been so kind as to do her justice 
by falling in love with her, he had done her too much 
honour by making her his wife; that with respect to 
his inconstant disposition, which estranged him from 
her, she ought to bear it with patience, until it pleased 
Heaven to produce a change in his conduct; that the 
frailties on his part, which might to her appear injuri- 
ous, would never justify in her the least deviation' 
from her duty ; and, as resentment was still less allow- 
able, she ought to endeavour to regain him by a con- 
duct entirely opposite to his own. In vain was it, as 
we have said before, that she had long resisted Love 
and his emissaries by the help of these maxims : how 
solid soever reason, and however obstinate wisdom and 
virtue may be, there are yet certain attacks which tire 
by their length, and, in the end, subdue both reason 
and virtue itself. 

The Duchess of York was one of the highest feeders 
in England. As this was an unforbidden pleasure, 
she indulged herself in it, as an indemnification for 
other self-denials. It was really an edifying sight to 
see her at table. The Duke, on the contrary, being 
incessantly in the hurry of new fancies, exhausted 
himself by his inconstancy, and was gradually wasting 
away; whilst the poof Princess, gratifying her good 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 319 

appetite, grew so fat and plump that it was a blessing 
to see her. It is not easy to determine how long things 
would have continued in this situation, if Love, who 
was resolved to have satisfaction for her late conduct, 
so opposite to the former, had not employed artifice 
as well as force to disturb her repose. 

He at first let loose upon her resentment and jeal- 
ousy, two mortal enemies to all tranquillity and hap- 
piness. A tall creature, pale-faced, and nothing but • 
skin and bone, named Churchill,'^ whom she had taken 
for a maid of honour, became the object of her jeal- 
ousy, because she was then the object of the Duke's 
affection. 

The Court was not able to comprehend how, after 
having been in love with Lady Chesterfield, Miss Ham- 
ilton, and Miss Jennings, he could have any inclination 
for such a creature ; but they soon perceived that some- 
thing more than unaccountable variety had a great 
share in effecting this conquest. 

The Duchess beheld with indignation a choice which 
seemed to debase her own merit in a much greater 
degree than any of the former. At the very instant 
that indignation and jealousy began to provoke her 
spleen, perfidious Cupid threw in the way of her pas- 

'^ Arabella Churchill, daughter of Sir Winston Churchill of 
Wotton Basset, Wilts, and sister to the celebrated John, Duke of > 
Marlborough. Born 1648. By the Duke of York she was mother 
of James, Duke of Berwick ; Henry Fitz- James, commonly called 
the Grand Prior, born 1673, who was, after the Revolution, 
created by his father Duke of Albemarle, and died 1702; Arabella, 
a nun, who died at the age of ninety in 1762 (vide Notes and 
Queries, 2nd Series, vol. iv. p. 488) ; Henrietta, born 1670, mar- 
ried to Lord Waldegrave, and died 1730. Miss Churchill after- 
wards became the wife of Charles Godfrey, Esq. (ob. 1715, cet. 
sixty-seven), Clerk-Comptroller of the Green Cloth, and Master 
of the Jewel Office, by whom she had two daughters : one, Char- 
lotte, Maid of Honour to Queen Mary, married to H. Boscawen, 
afterwards Viscount Falmouth, and the other, Elizabeth, to Ed- 
mund Dunch, Esq., of Wallingford. Mrs. Godfrey died at White- 
hall in May 1730, at the age of eighty-two. 



320 THE COURT OF CHARLES 11 

sions and resentments the amiable, handsome Sidney ;* 
and, whilst he kept her eyes fixed upon his personal 
perfections, diverted her attention from perceiving the 
deficiency of his mental accomplishments. She was 
wounded before she was aware of her danger ; but the 
good opinion Sidney had of his own merit did not 
suffer him long to be ignorant of such a glorious 
conquest; and, in order more effectually to secure it, 
his eyes rashly answered everjrthing which those of 
her Royal Highness had the kindness to tell him, 
whilst his personal accomplishments** were carefully 
heightened by all the advantages of dress and show. 

The Duchess, foreseeing the consequences of such 
an engagement, strongly combated the inclination that 
hurried her away; but Miss Hobart, siding with that 
inclination, argued the matter with her scruples, and, 
in the end, really vanquished them. This girl had 
insinuated herself into her Royal Highness's confi- 
dence by a fund of news with which she was provided 
the whole year round. The Court and the city sup- 
plied her ; nor was it very material to her whether her 
stories were true or false, her chief care being that 
they should prove agreeable to her mistress. She knew, 
likewise, how to gratify her palate, and constantly 
provided a variety of those dishes and liquors which 
she liked best. These qualifications had rendered her 
necessary; but, desirous of being still more so, and 
having perceived both the airs that Sidney gave him- 
self, and what was passing in the heart of her mistress, 
the cunning Hobart took the liberty of telling her 
Royal Highness that this unfortunate youth was pin- 
ing away solely on her account ; that it was a thousand 
pities a man of his figure should lose the respect for 
her which was most certainly her due, merely because 
'she had reduced him to such a state that he could no 
** Henry Sidney. See note, p. 98. •'Attractions (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 321 

longer preserve it; that he was gradually dying away 
on her account, in the sight of the whole Court; that 
his situation would soon be generally remarked, ex- 
cept she made use of the proper means to prevent it; 
that, in her opinion, her Royal Highness ought to pity 
the miserable situation into which her charms had re- 
duced him, and to endeavour to alleviate his pain in 
some way or other. The Duchess asked her what she 
meant by "endeavouring to alleviate his pain in some 
way or other." *T mean, madam," answered Miss 
Hobart, "that, if either his person be disagreeable, or 
his passion troublesome, you will give him his dis- 
charge; or, if you choose to retain him in your service, 
as all the princesses in the world would do in your 
place, you will permit me to give him directions from 
you for his future conduct, mixed with a few grains 
of hope to prevent his entirely losing his senses, until 
you find a proper occasion yourself to acquaint him 
with your wishes." "What I" said the Duchess, "would 
you advise me, Hobart — ^you, who really love me — to 
engage in an affair of this nature, at the expense of my 
honour, and the hazard of a thousand inconveniences ! 
If such frailties are sometimes excusable, they certainly 
are not so in the high station in which I am placed; 
and it would be an ill-requital on my part for his 

goodness who raised me to the rank I now fill, to " 

"All this is very fine," interrupted Miss Hobart; 
"but is it not very well known that he only married 
you because he was importuned to do so? Since that, 
I leave you to decide whether he has ever restrained 
his inclination a single moment, giving you the most 
convincing proofs of the change that has taken place in 
his heart, by a thousand provoking infidelities? Is it 
still your intention to persevere in a state of indolence 
and humility, whilst the Duke, after having received 
the favours, or suffered the repulses, of all the co- 



322 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

quettes in England, pays his addresses to the maids of 
honour, one after the other, and at present places his 
whole ambition and desires in the conquest of that ugly 
skeleton,*" Churchill ? What ! madam, must then your 
prime of life be spent in a sort of widowhood in 
deploring your misfortunes, without ever being per- 
mitted to make use of any remedy that may offer? A 
woman must be endowed with insuperable patience, or 
with an inexhaustible degree of resignation, to bear 
this. Can a husband, who disregards you both night 
and day, really suppose, because his wife eats and 
drinks heartily, as, God be thanked, your Royal High- 
ness does, that she wants nothing else than to sleep 
well too? Faith, such conduct is too bad: I therefore 
once more repeat that there is not a princess in the 
universe who would refuse the homage of a man like 
Sidney, when a husband pays his addresses else- 
where." 

These reasons were certainly not morally good ; but 
had they been still worse the Duchess would have 
yielded to them, so much did her heart act in concert 
with Miss Hobart, to overthrow her discretion and 
prudence. 

This intrigue began at the very time that Miss 
Hobart advised Miss Temple not to give any encour- 
agement tO' the addresses of the handsome Sidney. As 
for him, no sooner was he informed by the confidante 
Hobart that the Duchess accepted his adoration, than 
he immediately began to be particularly reserved and 
circumspect in his behaviour, in order to divert the 
attention of the public ; but the public is not so easily 
deceived as some people imagine. 

As there were too many spies, too many inquisitive 
people and critics, in a numerous Court, residing in 
the midst of a populous city, the Duchess, to avoid 

^Jade (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 323 

exposing the inclinations of her heart to the scrutiny 
of so many inquisitors, engaged the Duke of York to 
undertake the journey before mentioned; whilst the 
Queen and her Court were at Tunbridge. 

This conduct was prudent; and, if agreeable to her, 
was far from displeasing to any of her Court, except 
Miss Jennings. Jermyn was not of the party ; and, in 
her opinion, every party was insipid in which he was 
not one of the company. He had engaged himself in 
an enterprise above his strength, in laying a wager 
which the Chevalier de Gramont had laid before, and 
lost. He betted five hundred guineas that he would 
ride on the high road twenty miles in one hour upon 
the same horse. The day he had fixed upon for this 
race was the very same in which Miss Jennings went to 
the fortune-teller's. 

Jermyn was more fortunate than her in this under- 
taking : he came off victorious ; but as his courage had 
far exceeded the strength of his constitution in this 
exertion to win the wager, he got a violent fever into 
the bargain, which brought him very low. Miss Jen- 
nings inquired after his health; but that was all she 
dared to do. In modern romances, a princess need 
only pay a visit to some hero, abandoned by his physi- 
cians, and a perfect cure would be wrought in three 
days ; but since Miss Jennings had not been the cause 
of Jermyn's fever, she was not certain of relieving him 
from it, although she had been sure that a charitable 
visit would not have been censured in a malicious 
Court. Without therefore paying any attention to the 
uneasiness she might feel upon the occasion, the Court 
set out without him. She had, however, the gratifica- 
tion to show her ill-humour throughout the whole 
journey, by appearing displeased with everything 
which seemed to afford satisfaction to all the rest of 
the company. 

11 — Memoirs Vol. 4 



324 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Talbot made one of the company; and flattering 
himself that the absence of a dangerous rival might 
produce some change in his favour, he was attentive 
to all the actions, motions, and even gestures, of his 
former mistress. There was certainly enough fully to 
employ his attention: it was contrary to her disposi- 
tion to remain long in a serious humour. Her natural 
vivacity hurried her away from being seemingly lost 
in thought, into sallies of wit, which afforded him 
hopes that she would soon forget Jermyn, and remem- 
ber that his own passion was the first she had encour- 
aged. However, he kept his distance, notwithstanding 
his love and his hopes, being of opinion that it ill 
became an injured lover to betray either the least 
weakness, or the smallest return of affection, for an 
ungrateful mistress, who had deserted him. 

Miss Jennings was so far from thinking of his re- 
sentments, that she did not even recollect he had ever 
paid his addresses to her; and her thoughts being 
wholly occupied upon the poor sick man, she conducted 
herself towards Talbot as if they never had had any- 
thing to say to each other. It was to him that she 
most usually gave her hand, either in getting into or 
out of the coach ; she conversed more readily with him 
than any other person, and, without intending it, did 
everything to make the Court believe she was cured of 
her passion for Jermyn in favour of her former lover. 

Of this he seemed likewise convinced, as well as the 
* rest ; and thinking it now proper to act another part, 
in order to let her know that his sentiments with 
respect to her were still the same, he had resolved to 
address her in the most tender and affectionate manner 
upon this subject. Fortune seemed to have favoured 
him, and to have smoothed the way for this intended 
harangue. He was alone with her in her chamber; 
and, what was still better, she was rallying him con- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 325 

cerning Miss Boynton, saying, "that they were un- 
doubtedly much obliged to him for attending them on 
their journey, whilst poor Miss Boynton had fainting 
fits at Tunbridge, at least twice a day, for love of him." 
Upon this discourse Talbot thought it right to begin 
the recital of his sufferings and fidelity, when Miss 
Temple, with a paper in her hand, entered the room. 
This was a letter in verse, which Lord Rochester had 
written some time before, upon the intrigues of the 
two Courts; wherein, upon the subject of Miss Jen- 
nings, he said, *^that Talbot had struck terror among 
the people of God by his gigantic stature; but that 
Jermyn, like a little David, had vanquished the great 
Goliath." Jennings, delighted with this allusion, read 
it over two or three times, thought it more entertain- 
ing than Talbot's conversation, and at first heartily 
laughed at it ; but soon after, in a tender air, she said, 
with a deep sigh, "Poor little David V and turning her 
head on one side during this short reverie, shed a few 
tears, which assuredly did not flow for the defeat of the 
giant. This stung Talbot to the quick; and, seeing 
himself so ridiculously deceived in his hopes, he went 
abruptly out of the room, vowing never to think 
any more of a giddy girl, whose conduct was regulated 
neither by sense nor reason; but he did not keep his 
resolution. 

The other votaries of love, who were numerous in 
this Court, were more successful, the journey being 
undertaken solely on that account. There were con- 
tinual balls and entertainments upon the road; hunt- 
ing, and all other diversions, wherever the Court halted 
in its progress. The tender lovers flattered themselves 
with the thought of being able to crown their happi- 
ness as they proeeded in their journey; and the beau- 
ties who governed their destiny did not forbid them 
to hope. Sidney paid his court with wonderful assi- 



326 ■' THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

duity. The Duchess made the Duke take notice of his 
late perfect devotion to her service; his Royal High- 
ness observed it, and agreed that he ought to be 
remembered upon the first opportunity, which hap- 
pened soon after. 

Montagu, as before mentioned, was Master of the 
Horse to the Duchess; he was possessed of a great 
deal of wit, had much penetration, and loved mischief. 
How could she bear such a man near her person, in 
the present situation of her heart? This greatly 
embarrassed her ; but Montagu's elder brother having, 
very apropos, got himself killed where he had no busi- 
ness,^ the Duke obtained for Montagu the post of 
Master of the Horse to the Queen, which the deceased 
enjoyed; and the handsome Sidney was appointed to 
succeed him in the same employment to the Duchess. 
All this happened according to her wish, and the Duke 
was highly pleased that he had found means to pro- 
mote these two gentlemen at once, without being at the 
least expense. 

Miss Hobart greatly applauded these promotions. 
She had frequent and long conversations with Sidney, 
which, being remarked, some did her the honour to 
believe it was upon her own account; and the com- 

** Montagu's elder brother, Edward, eldest son of Edward, 
second Lord Montagu of Boughton, was killed before Bergen, 
2nd August 1665. He was in disgrace at Court at the time. Re- 
ferring to this disgrace, Pepys says (20th May 1664) : " His fault 
I perceive was his pride and most of all his affecting to be 
great with the Queen; and it seems, indeed, he had more of her 
care than everybody else, and would be with her talking alone 
two or three hours together, insomuch that the lords about^ the 
King, when he would be jesting with them about their wives, 
would tell the King that he must have a care of his wife too, for 
she hath now the gallant; and they say that the King himself 
did once ask Montagu how his mistress (meaning the Queen) 
did. He grew so proud and despised everybody, besides suffering 
nobody, he or she, to get or do anything about the Queen, that 
they all laboured to do him a good turn. So he is gone, nobody 
pitying but laughing at him." 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 327 

pliments that were made her upon the occasion she 
most willingly received. The Duke, who believed it 
at first, observed to the Duchess the unaccountable 
taste of certain persons, and how the handsomest 
young fellow in England was infatuated with such a 
frightful creature. 

The Duchess confessed that taste was very arbi- 
trary; the truth whereof he himself seemed to be con- 
vinced of, since he had fixed upon the beauteous Helen 
for his mistress/* I know not whether this raillery 
caused him to reflect for what reasons he had made his 
choice; but it is certain he began to cool in his affec- 
tions for Miss Churchill; and perhaps he would en- 
tirely have abandoned this pursuit, had not an accident 
taken place, which raised in him an entirely new in- 
clination for her. 

The Court having halted for a few days in a fine 
open country, the Duchess was desirous of seeing a 
greyhound course. This diversion is practised in Eng- 
land upon large downs, where the turf, eaten by the 
sheep, is particularly green, and wonderfully even. 
She was in her coach, and all the ladies on horseback, 
every one of them being attended by her squire; it 
therefore was but reasonable that the mistress should 
likewise have her squire. He accordingly was at the 
side of her coach, and seemed to compensate for his 
deficiencies in conversation by the uncommon beauty 
of his mien and figure. 

The Duke attended Miss Churchill, not for the sake 
of besieging her with soft flattering tales of love, but, 
on the contrary, to chide her for sitting so ill on horse- 

**9th January 1665-6. The Duke's surgeon, Pierce, tells Pepys: 
" How great a difference hath be'en between the Duke and 
Duchess, he suspecting her to be naught with Mr. Sidney. But 
some way or other, the matter is made up, but he was banished 
the Court, and the Duke for many days did not speak to the 
Duchess at all." See also Spence's Anecdotes, p. 329. 



328 THE COURT OF CHARLES H M 

w 

back. She was one the most indolent creatures in 
the world; and although the maids of honour are 
generally the worst mounted of the whole Court, yet, 
in order to distinguish her, on account of the favour 
she enjoyed, they had given her a very pretty, though 
rather a high-spirited horse : a distinction she would 
very willingly have excused them. 

The embarrassment and fear she was under had 
added to her natural paleness. In this situation, her 
countenance had almost completed the Duke's disgust, 
when her horse, desirous of keeping pace with the 
others, set off at a gallop, notwithstanding her greatest 
efforts to prevent it ; and her endeavours to hold him 
in, firing his mettle, he at length set off at full speed, 
as if he was running a race against the Duke's horse. 

Miss Churchill lost her seat, screamed out, and fell 
from her horse. A fall at so quick a pace must have 
been violent; and yet it proved favourable to her in 
every respect; for, without receiving any hurt, she 
gave the lie to all the unfavourable suppositions that 
had been formed of her person, in judging from her 
face. The Duke alighted, in order to help her; she 
was so greatly stunned, that her thoughts were other- 
wise employed than about decency on the present occa- 
sion; and those who first crowded around her found 
her rather in a negligent posture. They could hardly 
believe that limbs of such exquisite beauty could belong 
to Miss Churchill's face. After this accident, it was 
remarked that the Duke's tenderness and affection 
for her increased every day; and towards the end 
of the winter, it appeared that she had not tyran- 
nised over his passion, nor made him languish with 
impatience. 

The two Courts returned to London much about 
the same time, equally satisfied with their respective 
excursions ; though the Queen was disappointed in the 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 329 

hopes she had entertained of the good effects of the 
Tunbridge waters. 

It was about this time that the Chevalier de Gramont 
received a letter from the Marchioness de Saintr* 
Chaumont,^ his sister, acquainting him that he might 
return when he thought proper, the King having given 
him leave. He would have received this news with 
joy at any other time, whatever had been the charms 
of the English Court; but, in the present situation of 
his heart, he could not resolve to quit it. 

He had returned from Tunbridge a thousand times 
deeper in love than ever; for, during this agreeable 
excursion, he had every day seen Miss Hamilton, either 
in the marshes of melancholy Peckham, in the deli- 
cious walks of cheerful Summer-hill, or in the daily 
diversions and entertainments of the Queen's Court; 
and whether he saw her on horseback, heard her con- 
versation, or observed her in the dance, still he was 
persuaded that Heaven had never formed an object- 
in every respect more worthy of the love, and more 
deserving the affection, of a man of sense and delicacy. 
How then was it possible for him to bear the thoughts 
of leaving her? This appeared to him absolutely 
impracticable ; however, as he was desirous of receiv- 
ing the credit of the determination he had made to 
neglect his fortune, rather than to be separated from 
her charms, he showed her his sister's letter; but this 
confidence had not the success he expected. 

Miss Hamilton, in the first place, congratulated him 
upon his recall. She returned him many thanks for 
the sacrifice he intended to make her ; but as this testi- 
mony of affection greatly exceeded the bounds of mere 
gallantry, however sensibly she might feel this mark 

** Susan Charlotte de Gramont, wife of Marquis de Saint- 
Chaumont, stepsister of the ChevaHer (vide Vizetelly's edition, 
vol. ii. p. 172). 



330 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

of his tenderness, she was determined not to abuse 
it. In vain did he protest that he would rather meet 
death than part from her irresistible charms ; and her 
irresistible charms protested that he should never see 
them more unless he departed immediately. Thus was 
he forced to obey. However, he was allowed to flatter 
himself, that these positive orders, harsh as they might 
appear, did not flow from indifference ; that she would 
always be more pleased with his return than with his 
departure, for which she was now so urgent ; and hav- 
ing generously given him assurance that, so far as 
depended upon himself, he would find, upon his re- 
turn, no variation in her sentiments during his 
absence, he took leave of his friends, thinking of 
nothing but his return, at the very time he was mak- 
ing preparations for his departure.^ 

*^ This was in the middle of December 1663. The French Am- 
bassador, Comminges, wrote to King Louis that, on the point 
of starting, Charles II. detained him for a day, as he surmises, 
either to make him a present or to facilitate_ the payment of a 
debt of Lady Castlemaine amounting to 800 pieces. But at that 
time he had other sums owing to him, which he proposed to 
come and fetch when he declared himself on the subject of 
Miss Hamilton. 

Strange to say, only a few days later (22nd December), the 
union took place. Comminges declared that the affair was so 
involved that those with the most penetration could not fathom 
it. By general repute the Chevalier was on his way to his native 
country, but was overtaken at Dover by Miss Hamilton's brothers 
George and Anthony, who asked him whether he had not forgotten 
anything in London. " I have forgotten to marry your sister," 
answered Gramont, whereupon he returned with them, probably 
under compulsion. That the Count's son was born under the 
usually allotted time can scarcely be brought forward as an 
argument that matters had gone farther than they should have 
done before Gramont's departure. 



CHAPTER XI 

THE nearer the Chevalier de Gramont approached 
the Court of France, the more did he regret his 
absence from that of England ; not but that he 
expected a gracious reception at the feet of his master, 
whose anger no one provoked with impunity ; but who 
likewise knew how to pardon, in such a manner as to 
make the favour he conferred in every respect to be 
felt. 

A thousand different thoughts occupied his mind 
upon the journey. Sometimes he reflected upon the 
joy and satisfaction his friends and relations would 
experience upon his return; sometimes upon the con- 
gratulations and embraces of those who, being neither 
the one nor the other, would, nevertheless, overwhelm 
him with impertinent compliments. All these ideas 
passed quickly through his head ; for a man deeply in 
love makes it a scruple of conscience not to suffer any 
other thoughts to dwell upon his mind than those of 
the object beloved. It was then the tender, endearing 
remembrance of what he had left in London that 
diverted his thoughts from Paris; and it was the 
torments of absence that prevented his feeling those o! 
the bad roads and the bad Horses. His heart protested 
to Miss Hamilton, between Montreuil and Abbeville, 
that he only tore himself from her with such haste to 
return the sooner; after which, by a short reflection, 
comparing the regret he had formerly felt upon the 
same road, in quitting France for England, with that 
which he now experienced, in quitting England for 

331 



332 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

France, he found the latter much more insupportable 
than the former. 

It is thus that a man in love entertains himself upon 
the road; or rather, it is thus that a trifling writer 
abuses the patience of his reader, either to display his 
own sentiments, or to lengthen out a tedious story; 
but God forbid that this character should apply to 
ourselves, since we profess to insert nothing in these 
Memoirs but what we have heard from the mouth of 
him whose actions and sayings we transmit to pos- 
terity. 

Who, except Squire Feraulas, has ever been able to 
keep a register of all the thoughts, sighs, and exclama- 
tions of his illustrious master? For my own part, I 
should never have thought that the attention of the 
Count de Gramont, which is at present so sensible to 
inconveniences and dangers, would have ever per- 
mitted him to entertain amorous thoughts upon the 
road, if he did not himself dictate to me what I am 
now writing. 

But let us speak of him at Abbeville. The post- 
master was his old acquaintance. His hotel was the 
best provided of any between Calais and Paris; and 
the Chevalier de Gramont, alighting, told Termes he 
would drink a glass of wine during the time they were 
changing horses. It was about noon; and, since the 
preceding night, when they had landed at Calais, until 
this instant, they had not eaten a single mouthful. 
Termes, praising the Lord, that natural feelings had 
for once prevailed over the inhumanity of his usual 
impatience, confirmed him as much as possible in such 
reasonable sentiments. 

Upon their entering the kitchen, where the Chevalier 
generally paid his first visit, they were surprised to see 
half a dozen spits loaded with game at the fire, and 
every other preparation for a magnificent entertain- 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 333 

ment. The heart of Termes leaped for joy; he gave 
private orders to the hostler to pull the shoes off some 
of the horses, that he might not be forced away from 
this place before he had satisfied his craving appetite. 

Soon after, a number of violins and hautboys, at- 
tended by all the mob of the town, entered the court. 
The landlord, being asked the reason of these great 
preparations, acquainted the Chevalier de Gramont 
that they were for the wedding of one of the most 
wealthy gentlemen in the neighborhood, with one of 
the handsomest girls in the whole province; that the 
entertainment was to be at his house ; and that, if his 
lordship chose to stop, in a very short time he would 
see the new-married couple arrive from the church, 
since the music was already come. He was right in 
his conjectures ; for these words were scarce out of his 
mouth, when three uncommonly large coaches, loaded 
with lackeys, as tall as Swiss,^ with most gaudy liv- 
eries, all covered with lace, appeared in the court, and 
disembarked the whole wedding company. Never was 
country magnificence more naturally displayed. Rusty 
tinsel, tarnished lace, striped silk, little eyes, and full 
swelling breasts, appeared on every side. 

If the first sight of the procession surprised the 
Chevalier de Gramont, faithful Termes was no less 
astonished at the second. The little that was to be 
seen of the bride's face appeared not without beauty; 
but no judgment could be formed of the remainder. 
Four dozen patches, at least, and ten ringlets of hair, 
on each side, most completely concealed her from all 
human eyes ; but it was the bridegroom who most par- 
ticularly attracted the Chevalier de Gramont's atten- 
tion. 

He was as ridiculously dressed as the rest of the 
company, except a coat of the greatest magnificence, 
* Swiss Guards ( Vizetelly) . 



334 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

and of the most exquisite taste. The Chevalier de 
Gramont, walking up to him to examine his dress, 
began to commend the embroidery of his coat. The 
bridegroom thought himself much honoured by this 
examination, and told him he bought it for one hun- 
dred and fifty louis, at the time he was paying his 
addresses to his wife. "Then you did not get it made 
here ?" said the Chevalier de Gramont. "No," replied 
the other; "I bought it of a London merchant, who 
had ordered it for an English lord." The Chevalier 
de Gramont, who now began to perceive in what man- 
ner the adventure would end, asked him if he would 
recollect the merchant if he saw him again? "Recol- 
lect him!" replied the other, "I surely ought; for I was 
obliged to sit up drinking with him all night at Calais, 
while I was endeavouring to beat down the price." 
Termes had vanished out of sight as soon as ever this 
coat appeared, though he little supposed that the cursed 
bridegroom would have any conversation with his mas- 
ter concerning it. 

The Chevalier's thoughts were some time wavering 
between his inclination to laugh, and a desire for hang- 
ing Master Termes; but the long habit of suffering 
himself to be robbed by his domestics, together with 
the vigilance of the criminal, whom his master could 
not reproach with having slept in his service, inclined 
him to clemency; and yielding to the importunities 
of the country gentleman, in order to confound his 
faithful servant, he sat down to table, to make the 
thirty-seventh of the company. 

A short time after, he desired one of the waiters' 
to call for a gentleman whose name was Termes. He 
immediately appeared; and as soon as the master of 
the feast saw him, he rose from table, and offering 
him his hand : "Welcome, my friend," said he ; "you 
^Servants (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 335 

see that I have taken good care of the coat which you 
sold me with so much reluctance, and that I have kept 
it for a good purpose." 

• Termes, having put on a face of brass, pretended 
not to know him, and pushed him back with some 
degree of rudeness. "No, no!" said the other; "since 
I was obliged to sit up with you the whole night, in 
order to strike the bargain, you shall pledge me in the 
bride's health." The Chevalier de Gramont, who saw 
that Termes was disconcerted, notwithstanding his im- 
pudence, said to him with a smile : "Come, come, my 
good London merchant, sit down, as you are so civilly 
invited : we are not so crowded at table but that there 
will be room enough for such an honest gentleman as 
yourself." At these words five-and-thirty of the guests 
were in motion to receive this new visitor : the bride 
alone, out of an idea of decorum, remained seated; 
and the audacious Termes, having swallowed the first 
shame of this adventure, began to lay about him at 
such a rate, as if it had been his intention to swallow 
all the wine provided for the wedding, if his master 
had not risen from the table as they were taking off 
four-and-twenty soups, to serve up as many other 
dishes' in their stead. 

The company were not so unreasonable as to desire 
a man who was in such haste to remain to the end of 
a wedding dinner; but they all got up when he arose 
from table, and all that he could obtain from the 
bridegroom was that the company should not attend 
him to the gate of the inn. As for Termes, he wished 
they had not quitted him till the end of their journey, 
so much did he dread being left alone with his master. 

They had advanced some distance from Abbeville, 
and were proceeding on in the most profound silence, 
when Termes, who expected an end to it in a short 
• Entrees ( Vizetelly ) . 



336 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

time, was only solicitous in what manner it might 
happen, whether his master would attack him with a 
torrent of invectives, and certain epithets which were 
most justly his due, or whether, in an insulting, iron- 
ical manner, he might make use of such commenda- 
tions as were most likely to confound him ; but finding 
instead of either, that he remained in sullen silence, he 
thought it prudent rather to prevent the speech the 
Chevalier was meditating than to suffer him to think 
longer about it ; and, accordingly, arming himself with 
all his effrontery: "You seem to be very angry. Sir," 
said he, "and I suppose you think you have reason for 
being so ; but the devil take me, if you are not mistaken 
in reality." 

"How! traitor! in reality!" said the Chevalier de 
Gramont. "It is then because I have not had thee 
well thrashed, as thou hast for a long time merited." 
"Look ye. Sir," replied Termes, "you always run into 
a passion, instead of listening to reason! Yes, Sir, I 
maintain that what I did was for your benefit." "And 
was not the quicksand likewise for my service?" said 
the Chevalier de Gramont. "Have patience, if you 
please," pursued the other. "I know not how that 
simpleton of a bridegroom happened to be at the cus- 
tom-house when my portmanteau was examined at 
Calais; but these silly cuckolds thrust in their noses 
everywhere. As soon as ever he saw your coat, he fell 
in love with it. I immediately perceived he was a 
fool ; for he fell down upon his knees, beseeching me 
to sell it him. Besides being greatly rumpled in the 
portmanteau, it was all stained in front by the sweat of 
the horses. I wonder how the devil he has managed to 
get it cleaned ; but, faith, I am the greatest scoundrel 
in the world, if you would ever have put it on. In a 
word, it cost you one hundred and forty louis d'ors, 
and seeing he offered me one hundred and fifty for it : 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 337 

*My master/ said I, *has no occasion for this tinselled 
bauble to distinguish him at the ball; and, although 
he was pretty full of cash when I left him, how know I 
in what situation he may be upon my return ? there is 
no certainty at play. To be brief, Sir, I got ten louis 
d'ors for it more than it cost you : this you see is all 
clear profit. I will be accountable to you for it, and 
you know that I am sufficiently substantial to make 
good such a sum. Confess now, do you think you 
would have appeared to greater advantage at the ball, 
if you had been dressed out in that damned coat, which 
would have made you look just like the village bride- 
groom to whom we sold it ? and yet how you stormed 
at London when you thought it lost ; what fine stories 
you told the King about the quicksand ; and how churl- 
ish you looked, when you first began to suppose that 
this country looby wore it at his wedding!" 

What could the Chevalier reply to such impudence? 
If he indulged his resentment, he must either have 
most severely bastinadoed* him, or he must have dis- 
carded him, as the easiest escape the rogue could ex- 
pect ; but he had occasion for him during the remainder 
of his journey; and, as soon as he was at Paris, he 
had occasion for him for his return. 

The Marechal de Gramont had no sooner notice of 
his arrival than he went to him at the hotel ; and, the 
first embraces being over on both sides: "Chevalier," 
said the Marechal, "how many days have you been in 
coming from London hither ? for God knows at what a 
rate you travel on such occasions." The Chevalier told 
him he had been three days upon the road; and, to 
excuse himself for making no more haste, he related to 
him his Abbeville adventure. "It is a very entertain- 
ing one," said his brother; "but what is yet more 
entertaining is, that it will be your fault if you do not 

•Thrashed (Vizetelly). 



338 THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

find your coat still at table; for the country gentry 
are not accustomed to rise very soon from a wedding 
dinner." And then, in a very serious tone, told him, 
"he knew not who had advised him to this unexpected 
return, which might probably ruin all his affairs ; but 
he had orders from the King to bid him go back again 
without appearing at Court. He told him afterwards 
that he was very much astonished at his impatience, as, 
up to this time, he had conducted himself uncommonly 
well, and was sufficiently acquainted with the King's 
temper to know that the only way to merit his pardon 
was to wait until it freely came from his clemency." 

The Chevalier, in justification of his conduct, pro- 
duced Madame de Saint-Chaumont's letter, and told 
the Marechal that he would very willingly have spared 
her the trouble of writing him such kind of news, to 
occasion him so useless a journey. "Still more indis- 
cretion," replied his brother; "for, pray how long has 
our sister been either secretary of state or minister, 
that she should be employed by the King to make 
known his Majesty's order? Do you wish to know the 
real state of the case ? Some time ago the King told 
Madame* how you had refused the pension the King 

" Henri'etta, youngest daughter oT Charles I., born at Exeter 
i6th June 1644, from whence she was removed to Oatlands 
Palace in 1646, her governess, Lady Dalkeith,* soon afterwards 
conveying her secretly to France. She came over to England 
with her mother in September 1660, but returned to France the 
following January, and was married to Philip, Duke of Orleans, 
only brother of Louis XIV., on the 30th March 1661. In May 
1670 she came again to Dover to transact the well-known Secret 
Treaty between Charles and Louis XIV. She died suddenly soon 
after her return to France in the following month, not without 
suspicion of having been poisoned by her husband. King James, 
in his Diary, says : " It was suspected that counter-poisons were 
given her; but when she was opened, in the presence of the 
English Ambassador, the Earl of Ailesbury, an English physician 
and surgeon, there appeared no grounds of suspicion of any 

* Anne, daughter of Sir Edward Villiers. and wife of Robert Douglas, Lord 
Dalkeith. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 339 

of England offered you : he appeared pleased with the 
manner in which Comminges had related to him the 
circumstances attending it, and said he was pleased 
with you for it. Madame interpreted this as an order 
for your recall ; and Madame de Saint-Chaumont being 
very far from possessing that wonderful discretion she 
imagines herself mistress of, she hastened to despatch 
to you this consequential order in her own hand. To 
conclude : Madame said yesterday, when the King was 
at dinner, that you would very soon be here ; and the 
King, as soon as dinner was over, commanded me to 
send you back as soon as you arrived. Here you are ; 
set off again immediately." 

This order might have appeared severe to the Chev- 
alier de Gramont at any other time ; but, in the present 
state of his heart, he soon resolved upon obeying. 
Nothing gave him uneasiness but the officious advice 
which had obliged him to leave the English Court; 
and being entirely unconcerned that he was not allowed 
to see the French Court before his departure, he only 
desired the Marechal to obtain leave for him to stay a 
few days to collect in some play debts which were 
owing to him. This request was granted, on condition 
that he should not remain in Paris. 

He chose Vaugirard' for his retreat. It was there 
that he had several adventures which he so often re- 
foul play. Yet Bucks talked openly that she was poisoned; and 
was so violent as to propose to foreign ministers to make war 
on France" (Macpherson's Original Papers, vol. i.). At the 
end of Lord Arlington's Letters are five very remarkable ones 
from a person of quality, who is said to have been actually on 
the spot, giving a particular relation of her death. Madame de 
Montespan, in her Memoirs, does not hesitate to express her 
opinion that the Princess was poisoned. There is however but 
little doubt that she died of peritonitis (vide Anatole France's 
edition of Madame de la Fayette's Histoire d'Henriette d' Angle- 
terre, 1882; and Madame, by Julia Cartwright, 1894). 

^At this time a small village beyond the limits of the city of 
Paris (s'ee Vizetelly's edition, vol. ii. p. 168). 



340 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

lated in so humorous and diverting a manner, that it 
would be tedious to repeat them; there it was that he 
administered the sacrament in so solemn a manner, 
that, as there did not remain a sufficient number of 
Swiss at Versailles to guard the chapel, Vardes' was 
obliged to acquaint the King that they were all gone 
to the Chevalier de Gramont, who was administering 
the sacrament at Vaugirard ; there likewise happened 
that wonderful adventure which threw the first slur 
upon the reputation of the great Saucourt, when, hav- 
ing a tete-a-tete with the gardener's daughter, the 
horn, which was agreed upon as the signal to prevent 
surprises, was sounded so often, that the frequent 
alarms cooled the courage of the celebrated Saucourt," 
and rendered useless the assignation that was procured 
for him with one of the prettiest girls in the neighbour- 
hood. It was, likewise, during his stay at Vaugirard, 
that he paid a visit to Mademoiselle de I'Hopital at 
Issy,* to inquire into the truth of a report of an amour 
between her and a man of the long robe; and it was 
there that, on his arriving unexpectedly, the President 
de Maisons" was forced to take refuge in a closet, with 
so much precipitation, that half of his robe remained 
on the outside when he shut the door ; while the Chev- 
alier de Gramont, who observed it, made his visit ex- 
cessively long, in order to keep the two lovers upon 
the rack. 

His business being settled, he set out for England on 
the wings of love. Termes redoubled his vigilance 
upon the road. The post horses were ready in an 
Instant at every stage; the winds and tides favoured 

' Marquis de Vardes, Captain of the Swiss Guard. 

* Marquis de Soyecourt. 

®A fashionable locality in the seventeenth century, on the 
road to Versailles (Vizetelly, ii. p. i88). 

^*Rene Longueil de Maisons, President of the Parliament, 
whose daughter married Soyecourt (ibid.). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 341 

his impatience ; and he reached London with the high- 
est satisfaction. The Court was both surprised and 
charmed at his sudden return. No person condoled 
with him upon his late disappointment, which had occa- 
sioned him to come back, as he testified no manner of 
uneasiness concerning it himself ; nor was Miss Ham- 
ilton in the least displeased at his readiness in obeying 
the orders of the King, his master. 

Nothing new had happened in the English Court 
during his short absence; but it assumed a different 
aspect soon after his return: I mean with respect to 
love and pleasure, which were the most serious con- 
cerns of the Court during the greatest part of this gay- 
reign. 

The Duke of Monmouth," natural son to Charles the 
Second, now made his first appearance in his father's 

"James Crofts, who took the name of Scott (upon his mar- 
riage with the heiress to the Earldom of Buccleuch in 1663), 
generally acknowledged to be son of Charles II., though certain 
accounts give the paternity to Colonel Robert Sidney, brother 
to the " handsome Sidney " who figures in these Memoirs. Mon- 
mouth's mother, a beautiful Welsh woman, who passed by the 
name of Mrs. Barlow, though her real name was Lucy Walter, 
was far from faithful to her royal protector. She was_ therefore 
left to follow her own downward course, but not until her son 
had been forcibly taken from his mother's protection. He was 
then placed under the care of Lord Crofts (who also figures in 
the Memoirs) and the Queen Mother. Lucy Walter did not live 
to see the Restoration. Honours, titles, and riches were lavished 
upon her son by the King, who always had a sincere affection for 
him, and secretly protected him, while openly he had to defend 
his own brother's interests. Monmouth's rash acts threw him 
continually into disgrace at Court. His handsome appearance 
made him generally a favourite, but his weakness of character, 
an easy foil for the most dangerous political intriguers. Such 
crafty statesmen as Shaftesbury, and still more dangerous com- 
panions, as Lord^ Grey and James Ferguson, used the weak- 
minded Duke mainly for their own ends, which ultimately re- 
sulted in his ruin. But that Monmouth was guilty of any knowl- 
edge of the murder scheme in the Rye House Plot, except with 
a view to frustrate it, must not be entertained. For further 
particulars of his career, the insurrection, Sedgemoor fight, etc., 
vide King Monmouth, 



342 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Court. His entrance upon the stage of the world was 
so brilliant, his ambition had occasioned so many con- 
siderable events, and the particulars of his tragical end 
are so recent, that it were needless to produce any 
other traits to give a sketch of his character. By the 
whole tenor of his life, he appeared to be rash in his 
undertakings, irresolute in the execution, and dejected 
in his misfortunes, in which, at least, an undaunted 
resolution ought to equal the greatness of the attempt. 

His figure and the exterior graces of his person were 
such, that nature perhaps never formed anything more 
complete. His face was extremely handsome ; and yet 
it was a manly face, neither inanimate nor effeminate, 
each feature having its beauty and peculiar delicacy. 
He had a wonderful genius for every sort of exercise, 
an engaging aspect, and an air of grandeur : in a word, 
he possessed every personal advantage; but then he 
was greatly deficient in mental accomplishments. He 
had no sentiments but such as others inspired him 
with; and those who first insinuated themselves into 
his friendship took care to inspire him with none but 
such as were pernicious. The astonishing beauty of 
his outward form caused universal admiration: those 
who before were looked upon as handsome were now 
entirely forgotten at Court ; and all the gay and beau- 
tiful of the fair sex were at his devotion." He was 
particularly beloved by the King ; but the universal ter- 
ror of husbands and lovers. This, however, did not 
long continue ; for nature not having endowed him with 
qualifications to secure the possession of the heart, the 
fair sex soon perceived the defect. 

The Duchess of Cleveland was out of humour with 

the King, because the children she had by his Majesty 

were like so many little puppets compared to this new 

Adonis. She was the more particularly hurt, as she 

*' Service (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 343 

might have boasted of being the queen of love, in com- 
parison with the Duke's mother." The King, however, 
laughed at her reproaches, as, for some time, she had 
certainly no right to make any; and, as this piece of 
jealousy appeared to be more ill founded than any she 
had formerly affected, no person approved of her 
ridiculous resentment. Not succeeding in this, she 
formed another scheme to give the King uneasiness. 
Instead of opposing his extreme tenderness for his 
son, she pretended to adopt him, in her affection, by a 
thousand commendations and caresses, which she was 
daily and continually increasing. As these endear- 
ments were public, she imagined they could not be 
suspected, but she was too well known for her real 
design to be mistaken. The King was no longer jeal- 
ous of her ; but, as the Duke of Monmouth was of an 
age not to be insensible to the attractions of a woman 
possessing so many charms, he thought it proper to 
withdraw him from this pretended mother-in-law," to 
preserve his innocence, or at least his fame, uncon- 
taminated : it was for this reason, therefore, that the 
King married him so young." 

An heiress of five thousand pound a-year in Scot- 
land" offered very apropos; her person was full of 
charms, and her mind possessed all those perfections in 
which the handsome Monmouth was deficient. 

^^ Lucy Walter. For particulars of her career, vide King Mon- 
mouth. "Step-mother (Vizetelly). 

"There is no truth in this assertion, as Monmouth's marriage 
had been thought of a year before his appearance in England, 
viz. in 1661 (vide King Monmouth, p. 31). 

^^ Lady Anne, daughter and sole heir of Francis Scott, second 
Earl of Buccleuch, was aged eleven in June 1662, when she was 
brought to London by her mother, the Countess of Wemyss. The 
marriage was solemnised in the following year, when Monmouth, 
in addition to Earl of Doncaster and Baron Tynedale, was cre- 
ated Duke of Buccleuch, Earl of Dalkeith, and Lord Scott, he 
being her senior by two years. A re-grant of the titles was made 
i6th January 1666, enjoining that either Monmouth or his wife 



344 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

New festivals and entertainments celebrated this 
marriage/' The most effectual method to pay court to 
the King was to outshine the rest in brilliancy and 
grandeur; and whilst these rejoicings brought forward 
all manner of gallantry and magnificence, they either 
revived old, or established new amours. 

The fair Stewart, then in the meridian of her glory, 
attracted all eyes, and commanded universal respect 
and admiration. The Duchess of Cleveland endeav- 
oured to eclipse her at this fete, by a load of jewels, 
and by all the artificial ornaments of dress ; but it was 
in vain: her face looked rather thin and pale, from 
the commencement of a third or fourth pregnancy, 
which the King was still pleased to place to his own ac- 
count; and, as for the rest, her person could in no 
respect stand in competition with the grace and beauty 
of Miss Stewart. 

It was during this last effort of her charms, that 
she" would have been queen of England, had the King 
been as free to give his hand as he was to surrender 
his heart; for it was at this time that the Duke of 
Richmond took it into his head either to marry her, or 
to die in the attempt. 

should be independent in the event of the death of one of th'em ; 
thus when Monmouth was executed in 1685, the title of Duke 
of Buccleuch could not be revived until 1732, when her death 
occurred. In that year the successor, Francis (grandson of 
Monmouth), also took the title of Earl of Doncaster and Baron 
Tynedale, which had become extinct in 1685. The title of Duke 
of Monmouth was not revived. 

After the decease of her husband, the Duchess of Monmouth 
married (in 1688) Charles, third Lord Cornwallis {oh. 1693), 
by whom she had a son and two daughters. There were several 
children by the first marriage. According to Luttrell she was 
married for a third time in 1703 to the Earl of Selkirk, brother 
of the Duke of Hamilton. 

In 1685 the private fortune of the Duchess of Monmouth was 
so far impoverished that an annuity from the Crown was settled 
upon her. For further particulars, vide King Monmouth. 

"20th April 1663. ^^ Frances Stewart. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 345 

A few months after the celebration of the Duke of 
Monmouth's nuptials, Killegrew," having nothing bet- 
ter to do, fell in love with Lady Shrewsbury ; and, as 
Lady Shrewsbury, by a very extraordinary chance, had 
no engagement at that time, their amour was soon 
established. No one thought of interrupting an inti- 
macy which did not concern any one; but Killegrew 
thought proper to disturb it himself. Not that his 
happiness fell short of his expectation, nor did pos- 
session put him out of love with a situation so envi- 
able; but he was amazed that he was not envied, and 
offended that his good fortune raised him no rivals. 

He possessed a great deal of wit, and still more 
eloquence, which most particularly displayed itself 
when he was a little elevated with the juice of the 
grape: he then indulged himself in giving luxurious 
descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's most secret charms 
and beauties, which above half the Court were as well 
acquainted with as himself. 

The Duke of Buckingham was one of those who 
could only judge from outward appearances; and ap- 
pearances, in his opinion, did not seem to promise 
anything so exquisite as the extravagant praises of 
Killegrew would infer. As this indiscreet lover was a 
frequent guest at the Duke of Buckingham's table, he 
was continually employing his rhetoric on this subject, 
and he had full opportunity for his harangues; for 
they generally sat down to dinner at four o'clock,'" and 
only rose just in time for the play in the evening. 

The Duke of Buckingham, whose ears were continu- 
ally deafened^ with descriptions of Lady Shrewsbury's 
merits, resolved at last to examine into the truth of 
the matter himself. As soon as he had made the ex- 
periment, he was satisfied ; and, though he fancied that 

*^ Henry Killigrew (see ante, footnote, p. 178). 

^° In the morning (Vizetelly). "* Dinned (Vizetelly). 



346 THE COURT OF CHARLES U 

fame did not exceed the truth, yet this intrigue began 
in such a manner, that it was generally believed its 
duration would be short, considering the fickleness of 
both parties, and the vivacity with which they had en- 
gaged in it; nevertheless, no amour in England ever 
continued so long. 

The imprudent Killegrew, who could not be satis- 
fied without rivals, was obliged, in the end, to be 
satisfied without a mistress. This he bore very im- 
patiently; but so far was Lady Shrewsbury from 
listening to, or affording any redress for the griev- 
ances at first complained of, that she even pretended 
not to know him. His spirit could not brook such 
treatment; and, without ever considering that he was 
the author of his own disgrace, he let loose all his 
abusive eloquence against her ladyship. He attacked 
her with the most bitter invectives from head to foot ; 
he drew a frightful picture of her conduct ; and turned 
all her personal charms, which he used to extol, into 
defects. He was privately warned of the inconveni- 
ences to which these declamations might subject him, 
but despised the advice, and, persisting, he soon had 
reason to repent it. 

As he was returning one evening from the Duke of 
York's apartments at St. James's, three passes with a 
sword were made at him through his chair, one of 
which went entirely through his arm. Upon this, he 
was sensible of the danger to which his intemperate 
tongue had exposed him, over and above the loss of 
his mistress. The assassins made their escape across 
the Park, not doubting but they had despatched him."" 

'^Pepys, alluding to this affair, says (19th May 1669) : "Here 
the news was first talked of Harry Killigrew's being wounded in 
nine places last night by footmen in the highway going from 
the Park in a hackney-coach towards Hammersmith to his house 
in Turnham Green ; they being supposed to be my Lady Shrews- 
bury's men, she being by in her coach with six horses ; upon an 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 347 

Killegrew thought that all complaints would be 
useless; for what redress from justice could he expect 
for an attempt of which his wounds were his only 
evidence? And, besides, he was convinced that if he 
began a prosecution founded upon appearances and 
conjectures, the parties concerned would take the 
shortest and most effectual means to put a stop to all 
inquiries upon the subject, and that their second 
attempt would not prove ineffectual. Being desirous, 
therefore, of deserving mercy from those who had 
endeavoured to assassinate him, he no longer con- 
tinued his satires, and said not a word of the ad- 
venture. 

The Duke of Buckingham and Lady Shrewsbury 
remained for a long period both happy and con- 
tented. Never before had her constancy been of so 
long a duration; nor had he ever been so submissive 
and respectful a lover. 

old grudge of his saying openly that he had lain wi^-h her . .^ . 
his man is quite dead, and [Buckingham] there in discourse did 
say that he had spoke with someone that was by (which all the 
world must know that it must be his friend, my Lady Shrews- 
bury), who says that they did not mean to hurt, but beat him, 
and that he did run first at them with his sword ; so that he do 
hereby clearly discover that he knows who did it ana is of con- 
spiracy with them, bein^ of known conspiracy with her." 

Some further particulars may be gathered from a letter from 
the French ambassador Colbert to the minister Lionne, on 20th 
May. "Infuriated against Killigrew," he says, "because he 
boasted she had denied him no favour, the Countess nursed her 
anger against him until she could wreak vengeance. ^ She was 
able to do this yesterday. Killigrew had arranged to visit her at 
her house, which is six miles from London. He went alone in 
a coach, and on the way fell asleep. He was awoke by a 
thrust of a sword, which pierced his neck and came out at the 
shoulder. Before he could cry out he was flung from the vehicle 
and stabbed in three other places by the varlets of the Countess. 
The lady herself looked on from her coach and six, in which 
she was with her three daughters, and cried out to the assas- 
sins, *Kill the villain.* Nor did she drive off until he was 
thought dead. He was but badly wounded and has sworn infor- 
mations." 



348 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

This continued until Lord Shrewsbury," who never 
before had shown the least uneasiness at his lady's 
misconduct, thought proper to resent this. It was 
public enough, indeed, but less dishonourable to her 
than any of her former intrigues. Poor Lord Shrews- 
bury, too polite a man to make any reproaches to his 
wife, was resolved to have redress for his injured 
honour. He accordingly challenged the Duke of 
Buckingham; and the Duke of Buckingham, as a 
reparation for his honour, having killed him upon the 
spot, remained a peaceable possessor of this famous 
Helen. The public was at first shocked at the trans- 
action; but the public grows familiar with everything 
by habit, and by degrees both decency, and even virtue 
itself, are rendered tame, and overcome."^ The Queen 

^Francis, eleventh Earl of Shrewsbury.^ Reresby, in his Me- 
moirs, mentions (20th June 1666) how the intrigue between Buck- 
ingham and the Countess first became known to the Earl of 
Shrewsbury, at York, where Buckingham was entertaining a house 
party. The Countess's brother, Lord Brudenel, was sent for very 
late at night to act as mediator between them, there having been 
"a great quarrel of j'ealousy." 

** Regarding the notorious duel Pepys says, 17th January 1667-8: 
" Much discourse of a duel yesterday between the Duke of Buck- 
ingham, Holmes, and one Jenkins, on one side, and my Lord of 
Shrewsbury, Sir John Talbot, and one Bernard Howard, on the 
other side, and all about my Lady Shrewsbury, who is at this 
time and hath for a great while been a mistrfess to the Duke of 
Buckingham. And so her husband challenged him, and they 
met yesterday in a close near Barne Elmes, and there fought; 
and my Lord Shrewsbury is run through the body, from the 
right breast through the shoulder ; and Sir John Talbot all along, 
up one of his arms; and Jenkins killed upon the place, and the 
rest all in a little measure wounded. This will make the world 
think that the King hath good councillors about him, when the 
Duke of Buckingham, the greatest man about him, is a fellow 
of no more sobriety than to fight about a mistress. And this 
may prove a very bad accident to the Duke of Buckingham, but 
that my Lady Castlemaine do rule all at this time as much as 
ever she did, and she will, it is believed, keep all matters well 
with the Duke of Buckingham; though this is a time that the 
King will be very backward, I suppose, to appear in such a busi- 
ness. And it is pretty to hear how the King had some notice of 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 349 

was at the head of those who exclaimed against so 
public and scandalous a crime, and against the impunity 

this challenge a week or two ago, and did give it to my Lord 
General to confine the Duke, or take security that he should not 
do any such thing as fight; and the General trusted to the King 
that he, sending for him, would do it, and the King trusted 
to the General. And it is said that my Lord Shrewsbury's case is 
to be feared, that he may die too; and that may make it much 
worse for the Duke of Buckingham; and I shall not be much 
sorry for it, that we may have some sober man come in his 
room to assist in the Government." Again, 15th May 1668: "I 
am told that the Countess of Shrewsbury is brought home by the 
Duke of Buckingham to his house, where his Duchess, saying 
that it was not for her and the other to live together in a house, 
he answered, 'Why, madame, I did think so, and therefore have 
ordered your coach to be ready to carry you to your father's,' 
which was a devilish speech, but they say true; and my Lady 
Shrewsbury is there, it se'ems." 

Walpole says that during the encounter the Countess, disguised 
as a page, held Buckingham's horse (Noble Authors, ii. p. 82). 
In August 1671, according to Andrew Marvell, still " Buckingham 
runs out with the Lady Shrewsbury, whom he believes he had a 
son (by), to whom the King stood godfather. It died young, 
Earl of Coventry, and was buried in the sepulchre of his fathers." 
(Marvell's Works, i. p. 406.) In the Burial Register of West- 
minster Abbey for 12th March 1670-1 is the following entry: 
**A young male child was layd in the Duke of Buckingham's 
vault, being related to that family." 

Notwithstanding that the Duchess was alive at the time, James 
II. says that Buckingham married the Countess of Shrewsbury 
(Macpherson's Original Papers, i. p. 58), but her brother Francis, 
Lord Brudenel, and others, nevertheless petitioned the House of 
Lords to interfere, and the guilty pair had each to give security 
for their future conduct in the amount of iio,ooo a-piece (Lords* 
Journal, xii. p, 628). 

Pope's allusion to — 

" Cliefden's proud alcove 
The bow'r of Wanton Shrewsbury and Love" 

cannot be accepted as true, as the Duke of Buckingham's beauti- 
ful riverside mansion was only in course of erection in 1680, 
when the Countess had become the wife of George Rodney 
Bridges. Still, with such an abandoned woman, it is possible 
the liaison may have continued. Buckingham died in 1687 (vide 
G. S. Steinman's Althorp Memoirs). A brief account of the 
famous duel will also be found among the Verney MSS., 23d 
January 1667-8, Hist. MS. Com. Rep, 7, App. p. 486. 



350 THE COURT OF CHARLES U 

of such a wicked act. As the Duchess of Buckingham''^ 
was a short fat body, hke her Majesty, who never had 
had any children, and whom her husband had aban- 
doned for another, this sort of parallel in their situa- 
tions interested the Queen in her favour ; but it was all 
in vain: no person paid any attention to them; the 
licentiousness of the age went on uncontrolled, though 
the Queen endeavoured to raise up the serious part of 
the nation, the politicians and devotees, as enemies 
against it. 

The fate of this Princess was in many cases truly 
melancholy. The King, indeed, paid her every out- 
ward attention ; but that was all. She easily perceived 
that the respect he entertained for her daily diminished, 
in proportion as the credit of her rivals increased. She 
saw that the King, her husband, was now totally in- 
different about legitimate children, since his all-charm- 
ing mistresses bore him others. As all the happiness of 
her life depended upon that blessing, and as she flat- 
tered herself that the King would prove kinder to her 
if Heaven would vouchsafe to grant her desires, she 
had recourse to all the celebrated secrets against 
sterility : pious vows, nine days' prayers, and offerings 

^^ Mary, Duchess of Buckingham, only daughter of Thomas, 
Lord Fairfax, born 1639, married the profligate Duke of Buck- 
ingham in 1657. Bryan Fairfax, in his Life of the Duke, says 
she was a virtuous and pious lady in a vicious Court, and lived 
lovingly and decently with her husband, bearing submissively 
his constant infidelities. She appears, however, to have had 
spirit enough to resent the outrageous insult mentioned by Pepys 
{Diary, 15th May 1668), referred to above. By all accounts she 
had not many personal attractions. The Countess Dunois de- 
scribes her in her Memoirs "as little, brown, and lean," and old 
Viscountess de Longueville, who died in 1763, aged nearly a 
hundred, spoke of her as "a little round crumpled woman, very 
fond of finery." Upon one occasion when she visited her, the 
Duchess was lying on a sofa, arrayed in a loose robe, " all 
edged or laced with gold." The Duchess died in 1705, ag'ed 
sixty-six, and was buried in the Villiers vault, in Henry VII.'s 
Chapel at Westminster. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 351 

having been tried in all manners, but all to no purpose, 
she was at last obliged to return to natural means. 

What would she have given on this occasion for the 
ring which Archbishop Turpin wore on his finger, and 
which made Charlemagne run after him, in the same 
manner as it had made him run after one of his con- 
cubines, from whose finger Turpin had taken it after 
her death! But it is now many years since the only 
talismans for creating love are the charms of the per- 
son beloved, and foreign enchantments have been 
looked upon as ineffectual. The Queen's physicians, 
men of great prudence, sagacity, and wisdom, as they 
always are, having duly w^eighed and considered that 
the cold waters of Tunbridge had not succeeded in 
the preceding year, concluded that it would be advis- 
able for her to try the warm baths at Bristol.''' This 
journey was therefore fixed for the next season; and 
in the confidence of its proving effectual, this excur- 
sion would have afforded her much pleasure, if the 
most dangerous of her rivals had not been one of the 
first that was appointed to attend the Court. The 
Duchess of Cleveland being then near her time, there 
was no uneasiness on her account : the common rules 
of decency required a little attention. The public, it 

^"The warm baths alluded to doubtless were those at Bath, 
where the Court removed to in August 1663. Pepys records the 
royal progress : " Started from Whitehall on 26th August. The 
first night was spent at Maidenhead, and the second near New- 
bury" (probably at Shaw House). On September the 5th the 
King and Queen, Duke and Duchess of York, etc., visited Bristol, 
where they were sumptuously entertained by the Mayor and 
Sheriffs (see Barrett's History of Bristol). According to Godol- 
phin, on 22nd September the King and Qu'een left Bath for Bad- 
minton, Lord Herbert's seat, where they dined, being met by 
the county gentry {State Papers, Dam., 28th September 1663) ; 
but Pepys records on the same date : " This day (22nd Sep- 
tember) the King and Queen are come to Oxford," whither Lady 
Castlemaine repaired to meet them after the birth of her second 
son (in London), on 20th September 1663 (afterwards created 
Duke of Grafton). 



35^ THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

is true, was not either more or less acquainted with 
the circumstances of her situation, by the care which 
she now took to conceal it ; but her appearing at Court 
in her present condition would have been too great an 
insult to the Queen. Miss Stewart, more handsome 
than ever, was appointed for this excursion, and began 
to make magnificent preparations. The poor Queen 
durst say nothing against it; but all hopes of success 
immediately forsook her. What could the baths, or 
the feeble virtue of the waters, perform against 
charms that entirely counteracted their effects, either 
through the grief and uneasiness they occasioned her, 
or by their still more powerful consequences ? 

The Chevalier de Gramont, to whom all pleasures 
were insipid without the presence of Miss Hamilton, 
was yet unable to excuse himself from attending the 
Court: the King delighted too much in his sprightly 
conversation to leave him behind ; and however pleas- 
ing his company might have been in the solitude oc- 
casioned by the absence of the Court, Miss Hamilton 
did not think it right to accept his offer of staying in 
town, because she was obliged to remain there. She, 
however, granted him the permission of writing her 
an account of any news that might occur upon the 
journey. He failed not to make use of this permission, 
in such a manner as one may imagine ; and his own 
concerns took up so much space in his letters, that 
there was very little room left for other subjects dur- 
ing his stay at the baths. As absence from the object 
of his affections rendered this place insupportable, he 
engaged in everything that might dissipate his im- 
patience, until the happy moment of return arrived. 

He had a great esteem for the elder of the Hamil- 
tons ; no less esteem, and far more friendship for his 
brother, whom he made the confidant of his passion 
and attachment for his sister. The Chevalier was also 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 353 

acquainted with his first engagements with his cousin 
Wetenhall; but being ignorant of the coldness that had 
interrupted a commerce so brisk in its commencement, 
he was surprised at the eagerness he showed upon all 
occasions to please Miss Stewart. His assiduity ap- 
peared to the Chevalier de Gramont to exceed those 
civilities and attentions that are usually paid for the 
purpose of making court to the favourites of princes. 
He observed him more strictly, and soon perceived that 
he was deeper in love with her than was consistent 
either with his fortune or his repose. As soon as the 
remarks he made had confirmed him in his suspicions, 
he resolved to use his endeavours to prevent the con* 
sequences of an engagement pernicious in every re- 
spect; but he waited for a proper opportunity of 
speaking to him upon the subject. 

In the meantime, the Court enjoyed every kind of 
diversion, in a place where amusement is sought with 
avidity. The game of bowls, which in France is the 
pastime of mechanics and servants only, is quite the 
contrary in England, where it is the exercise of gentle- 
men, and requires both art and address. It is only in 
use during the fair and dry part of the season, and 
the places where it is practised are charming, delicious 
walks,"* called bowling-greens, which are little square 
grass plots, where the turf is almost as smooth and 
level as the cloth of a billiard-table. As soon as the 
heat of the day is over, all the company assemble 
there : they play deep ; and spectators are at liberty to 
make what bets they please. 

The Chevalier de Gramont, long before initiated in 
the English games and diversions, had been engaged 
in a horse-race, in which he was indeed unsuccessful ; 
but he had the satisfaction of being convinced by ex- 
perience that an English horse can go twenty miles 
" Enclosures (Vizetelly). 



354 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

upon the high road in less than an hour. He was 
more fortunate at cock-fighting; and in the bets he 
made at the bowHng-green, the party he betted upon 
never failed to win. 

Near all these places of diversion there is usually a 
sort of inn, or house of entertainment, with a bower 
or arbour, in which are sold all sorts of English 
liquors, such as cider, mead, bottled beer, and Spanish 
wines. Here the rooks meet every evening to drink, 
smoke, and to try their skill upon each other, or, in 
other words, to endeavour to trick one another out of 
the winnings of the day. These rooks are, properly 
speaking, what we call capons or piqueiirs in France : 
men who always carry money about them, to enable 
them to lend to losing gamesters, for which they re- 
ceive a gratification, which is nothing for such as play 
deep, as it is only two per cent, and the money to be 
repaid the next day. 

These gentlemen are so nice in their calculations, 
and so particularly skilful in all manner of games, 
that no person would dare to enter the lists with them, 
were they even assured that no unfairness would be 
practised. Besides, they make a vow to win four or 
five guineas a day, and to be satisfied with that gain : 
a vow which they seldom or never break. 

It was in the midst of a company of these rooks 
that Hamilton found the Chevalier de Gramont, when 
he called in one evening to get a glass of cider. They 
were playing at hazard ; and as he who holds the dice 
is supposed to have the advantage, the rooks did the 
Chevalier de Gramont that honour out of compliment. 
He had the dice in his hand when Hamilton came into 
the room. The rooks, secure of their odds, were 
betting against him at a high rate, and he took all. 

Hamilton could hardly believe his eyes, to see a 
man of his experience and knowledge engaged in so 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 355 

unequal a contest; but it was to no purpose that he 
informed him of his danger, both aloud in French, and 
in private by signs; he still disregarded his warnings, 
and the dice, that bore Caesar and his fortunes, per- 
formed a miracle in his favour. The rooks were de- 
feated for the first time, but not without bestowing 
upon him all the encomiums and praises of being a 
very fair and honourable player, which they never fail 
to lavish upon those whom they wish to engage a 
second time; but all their commendations were lost, 
and their hopes deceived : the Chevalier was satisfied 
with the first experiment. 

Hamilton, when the King was at supper, related to 
him how he found the Chevalier de Gramont rashly 
engaged with the rooks, and in what manner he had 
been providentially preserved. ^Tndeed, Sir," said the 
Chevalier de Gramont, "the rooks were discomfited 
for once," and thereupon related the adventure to his 
Majesty in his usual way, attracting the attention of 
all the company to a circumstance trifling in itself, but 
rendered interesting by his humour. 

After supper. Miss Stewart, in whose apartment 
there was play, called Hamilton to her to tell the story. 
The Chevalier de Gramont, perceiving that she at- 
tended to him with pleasure, was fully confirmed in 
the truth of his first conjectures; and, having carried 
Hamilton home with him to supper, they began to 
discourse freely together as usual. "George," said the 
Chevalier de Gramont, "are you in any want of 
money ? I know you love play ; perhaps it may not be 
so favourable to you as it is to me. We are at a great 
distance from London. Here are two hundred 
guineas : take them, I beseech you ; they will do to play 
with at Miss Stewart's." Hamilton, who little ex- 
pected this conclusion, was rather disconcerted. 
"How ! at Miss Stewart's !" "Yes, in her apartments. 
12 — ^Memoirs Vol. 4 



356 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Friend George," continued the Chevalier de Gramont, 
"I have not yet lost my eyes. You are in love with 
her, and, if I am not mistaken, she is not offended at 
it; but tell me how you could resolve to banish poor 
Wetenhall from your heart, and suffer yourself to be 
infatuated with a girl, who perhaps, after all, is not 
worth the other, and who, besides, whatever favour- 
able dispositions she may have for you, will undoubt- 
edly in the end prove your ruin. Faith, your brother 
and you are two pretty fellows in your choice. What ! 
can you find no other beauties in all the Court to fall 
in love with except the King's two mistresses! As 
for the elder brother, I can pardon him : he only took 
Lady Castlemaine after his master had done with her, 
and after Lady Chesterfield had discarded him; but, 
as for you, what the devil do you intend to do with 
a creature on whom the King seems every day to dote 
with increasing fondness ? Is it because that drunken 
sot Richmond has again come forward, and now de- 
clares himself one of her professed admirers? You 
will soon see what he will make by it. I have not 
forgotten what the King said to me upon the subject. 
"Believe me, my dear friend, there is no playing 
tricks with our masters; I mean, there is no ogling 
their mistresses. I myself wanted to play the agree- 
able in France with a little coquette, whom the King 
did not care about, and you know how dearly I paid 
for it." I confess she gives you fair play, but do not 
trust to her. All the sex feel an unspeakable satisfac- 
tion at having men in their train whom they do not 
care for, and to use them as their slaves of state, 
merely to swell their equipage. Would it not be a 
great deal better to pass a week or ten days incognito 
at Peckham, with the philosopher Wetenhall's wife, 

^ Gramont h'ere refers to his attentions to Mademoiselle de la 
Motte Houdancourt, before alluded to (see ante, p. 85). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 357 

than to have it inserted in the Dutch Gazette — We 
hear from Bristol that such a one is banished the 
Court on account of Miss Stewart, and that he is going 
to make a campaign in Guinea"^ on board the fleet that 
is fitting out for the expedition, under the command 
of Prince Rupert." 

Hamilton, who was convinced of the truth of this 
discourse, the more he considered it, after musing 
some time, appeared to wake from a dream, and 
addressing himself with an air of gratitude to the 
Chevalier de Gramont : "Of all the men in the world, 
my dear friend," said he, "you have the most agreeable 
wit, and at the same time the clearest judgment with 
respect to your friends: what you have told me has 
opened my eyes. I began to suffer myself to be se- 
duced by the most ridiculous illusion imaginable, and 
to be hurried away rather by frivolous appearances 
than any real inclination. To you I owe the obligation 
of having preserved me from destruction at the very 
brink of the precipice. This is not the only kindness 
you have done me : your favours have been innumer- 
able; and, as a proof of my gratitude for this last, I 
will follow your advice, and go into retirement at my 
cousin Wetenhall's, to eradicate from my recollection 
every trace of those chimeras which lately possessed 
my brain ; but so far from going there incognito, I will 
take you along with me, as soon as the Court returns 
to London. My sister shall likewise be of the party ; 
for it is prudent to use all precautions with a man who, 
with a great deal of merit, on such occasions is not 
over-scrupulous, if we may credit your philosopher." 
"Do not pay any attention to that pedant," replied the 
Chevalier de Gramont; "but tell me what put it into 
your head to form a design upon that inanimate statue, 

**This expedition was intended to have taken place in 1664 
ivide footnote, p. 380). 



358 THE COURT OF CI^RLES II 

Miss Stewart?'' "How the devil should I know?*' 
said Hamilton. "You are acquainted with all her 
childish amusements. The old Lord Carlingford^" was 
at her apartment one evening, showing her how to hold 
a lighted wax candle in her mouth, and the grand 
secret consisted in keeping the burning end there a 
long time without its being extinguished. I have, 
thank God, a pretty large mouth, and, in order to 
out-do her teacher, I took two candles into my mouth 
at the same time, and walked three times round the 
room without their going out. Every person present 
adjudged me the prize of this illustrious experiment, 
and Killegrew maintained that nothing but a lanthorn 
could stand in competition with me. Upon this she 
was like to die with laughing; and thus was I ad- 
mitted into the familiarity of her amusements. It is 
impossible to deny her being one of the most charm- 
ing creatures that ever was : since the Court has been 
in the country, I have had an hundred opportunities 
of seeing her, which I had not before. You know that 
the dishabille of the bath is a great convenience for 
those ladies who, strictly adhering to all the rules of 
decorum, are yet desirous to display all their charms 
and attractions. Miss Stewart is so fully acquainted 
with the advantages she possesses over all other 
women, that it is hardly possible to praise any lady at 
Court for a well-turned arm, and a fine leg, but she 
is ever ready to dispute the point by demonstration. 
After all, a man must be very insensible to remain 
unconcerned and unmoved on such happy occasions; 
and, besides, the good opinion we entertain of our- 
selves is apt to make us think a woman is smitten, as 
soon as she distinguishes us by habitual familiarity, 

^° Theobald Taafe, th'e second Viscount Taafe, created Earl of 
Carllngford, in the county of Louth, the father of the Lord 
Taafe who had the intrigue with Miss Warminster (see ante, 
pp. 239-245), 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 359 

which most commonly signifies nothing. This is the 
truth of the matter with respect to myself : my own 
presumption, her beauty, the brilliant station that set 
it off, and a thousand kind things she had said to me, 
prevented me from making serious reflections; but 
then, as some excuse for my folly, I must likewise tell 
you, that the facility I found in making her the ten- 
derest declarations by commending her, and her telling 
me in confidence a thousand things which she ought 
not to have entrusted me with, might have deceived 
or infatuated any other man as well as myself. 

'T presented her with one of the prettiest horses in 
England. You know what peculiar grace and elegance 
distinguish her on horseback. The King — who, of all 
the diversions of the chase, likes none but hawking, 
because it is the most convenient for the ladies — went 
out the other day to take this amusement, attended by 
all the beauties of his Court. His Majesty having 
galloped after a falcon, and the whole bright squadron 
after him, the rustling of Miss Stewart's petticoats 
frightened her horse, which, at full speed, was en- 
deavouring to come up with mine, that had been his^* 
companion; so that I was the only witness of a dis- 
order in her clothes, which displayed a thousand new 
beauties to my view. I had the good fortune to make 
such gallant and flattering exclamations upon that 
charming disorder as to prevent her being concerned or 
out of countenance upon it : on the contrary, this sub- 
ject of my admiration has been frequently since the 
subject of our conversation, and did not seem to dis- 
please her. 

"Old Lord Carlingford, and that mad fellow, 
Crofts'" (for I must now make you my general con- 
testable companion (Vizetelly). 

'^William, Lord Crofts, 'eldest son of Sir Henry Crofts of 
Little Saxham, Suffolk, Gentleman of the Bedchamber to the 



36o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

fession), those insipid buffoons, were frequently telling 
her some diverting stories, which passed pretty well 
with the help of a few old threadbare jests, or some 
apish tricks in the recital, which made her laugh 
heartily. As for myself, who know no stories, and do 
not possess the talent of improving them by telling, if 
I did know any, I was often greatly embarrassed when 
she desired me to tell her one. *I do not know one, 
indeed,' said I, one day, when she was teasing me on 
the subject. 

" 'Invent one, then,' said she. 'That would be still 
more difficult,' replied I; *but if you will give me 
leave, madam, I will relate to you a very extraor- 
dinary dream, which has, however, less appearance of 
truth in it than dreams generally have.' This excited 
her curiosity, which would brook no denial. I there- 
fore began to tell her that the most beautiful creature 
in the world, whom I loved to distraction, paid me a 
visit in my sleep. I then drew her own portrait, with 
a rapturous description of all her beauties; adding, 
that this goddess, who came to visit me with the most 
favourable intentions, did not counteract them by any 
unreasonable cruelty. This was not sufficient to satisfy 
Miss Stewart's curiosity : I was obliged to relate every 
particular circumstance of the kindness I experienced 
from this delicate phantom ; to which she was so very 
attentive, that she never once appeared surprised or 
disconcerted at the luscious tale. On the contrary, she 
made me repeat the description of the beauty, which I 
drew as near as possible after her own person, and 

King and Duke of York. Groom of the Stole, and captain of 
a regiment of Guards to the Queen Mother. He was appointed 
to act as guardian to the young Duke of Monmouth, a. ho adopted 
his name until he took that of Scott in 1663. Pepys (23rd Oc- 
tober 1668) mentions a drinking bout by the King, Buckhurst, 
Sedley, and others at Saxham, which old Hall was pulled down 
in 1771. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 361 

after such charms as I imagined of beauties that were 
unknown to me. 

"This is, in fact, the very thing that had almost de- 
prived me of my senses. She knew very well that she 
herself was the person I was describing. We were 
alone, as you may imagine, when I told her this story ; 
and my eyes did their utmost to persuade her that it 
was herself whom I drew. I perceived that she was 
not in the least offended at knowing this ; nor was her 
modesty in the least alarmed at the relation of a fiction, 
which I might have concluded in a manner still less 
discreet, if I had thought proper. This patient audi- 
ence made me plunge headlong into the ocean of 
flattering ideas that presented themselves to my im- 
agination. I then no longer thought of the King, nor 
how passionately fond he was of her, nor of the 
dangers attendant upon such an engagement : in short, 
I know not what the devil I was thinking of; but I 
am very certain that, if you had not been thinking for 
me, I might have found my ruin in the midst of these 
distracted visions." 

Not long after, the Court returned to London; and 
from that time, some malevolent star having gained 
the ascendant, everything went cross in the empire of 
Love: vexation, suspicions, or jealousies, first entered 
the field, to set all hearts at variance; next, false 
reports, slander, and disputes completed the ruin of all. 

The Duchess of Cleveland had been brought to bed 
while the Court was at Bristol; and never before had 
she recovered from her lying-in with such a profusion 
of charms. This made her believe that she was in a 
proper state to retrieve her ancient rights over the 
King's heart, if she had an opportunity of appearing 
before him with this increased splendour. Her friends 
being of the same opinion, her equipage was prepared 
for this expedition; but the very evening before the 



Z^2 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

day she had fixed on to set out, she saw young Church- 
iir and was at once seized with a disease which had 
more than once opposed her projects, and which she 
could never completely get the better of. 

A man who, from an ensign in the Guards, was 
raised to such a fortune, must certainly possess an 
uncommon share of prudence, not to be intoxicated 
with his happiness. Churchill boasted in all places of 
the new favour he had received. The Duchess of 
Cleveland, who neither recommended to him circum- 
spection in his behaviour, nor in his conversation, did 
not seem to be in the least concerned at his indiscretion. 
Thus this intrigue had become a general topic in all 
companies, when the Court arrived in London,'* and 
occasioned an immense number of speculations and 
reasonings. Some said she had already presented him 
with Jermyn's pension, and Jacob Hall's salary,^^ be- 
cause the merits and qualifications of both were united 

^ John Churchill (then Page of Honour to the Duke of York 
and an ensign), afterwards the famous Duke of Marlborough 
(born 1650, oh. 1722). Lord Chesterfield, who knew the Duke 
well, says "he possessed the highest graces, and to these, in a 
great measure, he owed his subsequent greatness and riches." 
At the same time he was far from brilliant, though he was re- 
markably clear-headed, and had sound judgment. Like the Duke 
of Monmouth, he had a handsome face and figure, and had 
a particularly affable and gracious manner, which made him 
courted by both sexes. He could refuse more gracefully than 
others could grant, and those who left him disappotnted were 
invariably charmed with his courteous manner. Of all historians 
Macaulay is perhaps the most severe upon Marlborough; on the 
other hand. Lord Wolseley handles him a little too leniently 
(see Life of the Duke of Marlborough) . According to King's 
Anecdotes, when old and infirm the Duke always walked to save 
sixpence for a chair. 

^*2nd October 1663 was the date of the return of the Court 
from Bristol. Hamilton has confused this with a later event. 
Young Churchill was about thirteen in 1663, and his intrigue 
with Lady Castlemain'e was at the earliest in 1668, probably 
two or three years later. 

^^Lord Chesterfield relates in his Letters (No. 136) that when 
Churchill was an fensign of the Guards, the Duchess, struck by 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 363 

In his person; others maintained that he had too 
indolent an air^ and too delicate a shape, long to main- 
tain himself in her favour; but all agreed that a man 
who was the favourite of the King's mistress, and 
brother to the Duke's favourite, was in a fair way of 
preferment, and could not fail to make his fortune. 
As a proof, the Duke of York soon after gave him a 
place in his household : this was naturally to be ex- 
pected; but the King, who did not think that Lady 
Cleveland's kindness to him was a sufficient recom- 
mendation to his favour, thought proper to forbid him 
the Court. 

This good-natured King began now to be rather 
peevish : nor was it altogether without reason. He 
disturbed no person in their amours, and yet others had 
often the presumption to encroach upon his. Lord 
Dorset, First Lord of the Bedchamber, had lately 
debauched from his service Nell Gwyn, the actress.'" 

his graces, gave him £5000, with which he bought an annuity of 
£500 from Halifax, Chesterfield's grandfather. Mrs. Manley, 
who, in after years, lived as a companion to the Duchess of 
Cleveland, says that though Churchill had received thousands 
from the Duchess, he refused the common civility of lending 
her twenty guineas at the basset table (vide History of Rivella, 

1725). 

According to the French Ambassador Courtin, Churchill re- 
ceived not only money, jewels, but even estates from some of the 
wealthy women at Court. Upon discovering the intrigue with his 
mistress, Charles said he would forgive him, as he had become 
a lover to save himself from starving. — MS. Affaires Estrangeres 
Angleterre (Forneron's Louise de Keroualle) . 

" The Duchess of Cleveland," says Burnet, " finding that she 
had lost the King, abandoned herself to great disorders, one of 
which, by the artifice of the Duke of Buckingham, was discovered 
by the King in person, the party concerned leaping out of the 
window" (Burnet's Own Time, vol. i. p. 264). 

'^ Boyer, the first translator of the Memoirs, says truly enough 
that Nell Gwyn was Lord Dorset's mistress before the King 
became enslaved to her, and adds that Dryden told him that, with 
the object of getting her into his possession, her protector was 
sent on a "sleeveless errand" into France. On 13th July 1667, 
Pepys records Nell's abduction from the stage by Lord Buck- 



364 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

Lady Qeveland, whom he now no longer regarded, 
continued to disgrace him by repeated infidelities with 
unworthy rivals, and almost ruined him by the im- 
mense sums she lavished on her gallants; but that 

hurst. " Poor girl ! " he exclaims, " I pity her, but more the 
loss of her at the King's House." On 26th August following 
he says (on the authority of Sir W. Pen) how " Nell is already 
left by my Lord Buckhurst, and that he makes sport of her and 
swears she hath had all she could get of him." See also footnote, 
p. 211. On nth January 1667-8, Knepp tells Pepys that "a good 
while ago" — "the King did send s'everal times for Nelly, and 
she was with him." 
Hereford claims to be Nelly's birthplace, and the house is said 

' by tradition to have been in " Pipe Well Lane," recently rechris- 
tened Gwyn Street, where a tablet marking the site may be seen 
attached to a garden wall (see Wheatley's edition « f Cunning- 

f ham's Story of Nell Gwyn, p. xxi.) ; but Peter Cunningham 
thought there was no foundation for the story. Oldys says she 
was born in the Coal Yard, Drury Lane, now called Goldsmith 
Street, a turning on the east side towards St. Giles {vide Cun- 
ningham's London). The date of her birth, according to her 
horoscope in the Ashmolean MS., is 2nd February 1650-1. 

Prior to being the mistress of Lord Buckhurst, she was kept 
by Charles Hart, the celebrated actor, who introduced her to 
the stage. The comedian, John Lacy, also is said to have kept 
her. This state of affairs can hardly be wondered at, when she 
herself admitted that she had been brought up in a brothel. 
From an orange girl she was promoted to actress in 1665, when 
she made her appearance at Drury Lane in Dryden's Indian 
Emperor. From this time there are several plays mentioned by 
Pepys in which she either pleased or displeased him, according 
to how the parts suited her. Charles Beauclerc, afterwards 
created Earl of Burford and Duke of St. Albans, Nelly's eldest 
son by the King, was born 8th May 1670. She died 14th No- 
vember 1687 at her house on the south side of Pall Mall, now 
the Eagle Insurance office. The garden of this house adjoined 
the gardens of St. Jam'es*s Palace {vide Evelyn's oft-quoted 
entry in his Diary of ist March 1671). The site of a house on 
the north side of Pall Mall, where she also lived for a short time 
(described by Pennant), is now occupi'ed by the Army and Navy 
Club, where her looking-glass may still be seen in the visitors' 
dining-room. One apartment was formed entirely of mirrors, 
including the ceiling. Nell Gwyn was buried in the old church 
of St. Martin's-in-th'e-Fields. For further particulars see Cun- 
ningham's Story of Nell Gwyn, Pepys's Diary, Wheatley's edition, 
and the same author's Introduction to his edition of Cunning' 
ham's Nell Gwyn, 1892. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 365 

which most sensibly affected him was the late coldness 
and threats of Miss Stewart. He long since had 
offered her all the settlements and all the titles she 
could desire, until he had an opportunity more effec- 
tually to provide for her, which she had pretended only 
to decline, for fear of the scandal they might occasion, 
on her being raised to a rank which would attract the 
public notice; but since the return of the Court, she 
had given herself other airs: sometimes she was for 
retiring from Court, to appease the continual uneasi- 
ness her presence gave the Queen; at other times it 
was to avoid temptations, by which she wished to in- 
sinuate that her innocence was still preserved : in short, 
the King's heart was continually distracted by alarms, 
or oppressed by ill humour and caprice. 

As he could not for his life imagine what Miss 
Stewart wished him to do, or what she would be at, he 
thought upon reforming his establishment of mis- 
tresses, to try whether jealousy was not the real occa- 
sion of her uneasiness. It was for this reason that, 
after having solemnly declared he would have nothing 
more to say to the Duchess of Cleveland, since her in- 
trigue with Churchill, he discarded, without any excep- 
tion,^' all the other mistresses which he had in various 
parts of the town. The Nell Gwyns, the Misses Davis," 

"Began to discard (VIzetelly). 

'^ Moll Davis, the actress of the Duke's Theatre, who first ap- 
peared on the stage in 1664, was the illegitimate daughter of 
Colonel Charles Howard, son of Thomas Howard, first Earl 
of Berkshire, not, as Pepys heard from Mrs. Pearse, the daugh- 
ter of the Earl himself, whom he succeeded in 1679 as second 
Earl (vide Pepys's Diary, 14th January 1667-8; s'ee also King , 
Monmouth, pp. 13-14 note). There is a tradition at the village 
of Charlton, Wilts, near where stands the ancestral home of 
the Howards, that Mary Davis was the daughter of the black- 
smith there and at no time was a milkmaid^ (see Lord Bray- 
brooke's History of Audley End, also Cunningham's Story of 
Nell Gwyn) ; but this is probably incorrect. By Pepys's account, 
it was through the influence of the noble father that the actress 



366 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

and the joyous train of singers and dancers in his 
Majesty's theatre, were all dismissed. All these sacri- 
fices were ineffectual : Miss Stewart continued to tor- 
ment, and almost to drive the King to distraction ; but 
his Majesty soon after found out the real cause of this 
coldness. 

This discovery was owing to the officious Duchess 
of Cleveland, who, ever since her disgrace, had railed 
most bitterly against Miss Stewart as the cause of it, 
and against the King's weakness, who, for an inani- 
mate"* idiot, had treated her with so much indignity. 
As some of her Grace's creatures were still in the King's 
confidence, by their means she was informed of the 
King's uneasiness, and that Miss Stewart's behaviour 
was the occasion of it ; and as soon as she had found 
the opportunity she had so long wished for, she went 
directly into the King's cabinet, through the apartment 
of one of his pages called Chiffinch. This way was not 
new to her. 

The King was just returned from visiting Miss 
Stewart, in a very ill humour. The presence of the 

became th'e King's mistress, though this is also not probable, as 
her dancing and singing won Charles's heart prior to Nell Gwyn 
becoming his mistress. It was the part of Celania in The Rivals, 
a lovesick shepherdess, which won the actress her equivocal 
position. From that time forward she lived sumptuously in 
Suffolk Street, Haymarket, removing afterwards to a house in 
St. James's Square {vide Dasent's History of St. James's 
Square). There are several allusions to Moll Davis in Pepys's 
Diary, — of her superior dancing (in boy's clothes) to Nell Gwyn, 
— of Lady Castlemaine's jealousy — and of the Queen's resentment 
at her being brought into favour. 

In the Lives of the Most Celebrated Beauties, 1715, a scan- 
dalous an'ecdote is related how Nell Gwyn introduced a dose of 
jalap into the new favourite's supper upon her first introduction 
into royal favour. Mary Tudor, Moll's daughter, born in 1673, 
was the mother of the Jacobite, James, Earl of Der went water, 
beheaded in 1716. 

^ Gaily bedecked (Vizetelly). 

^ Lord Braybrooke says a family of the name of Davis was for many genera- 
tions at Charlton, the last dving about 1830, aged ninety {Hist. Audley End). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 367 

Duchess of Cleveland surprised him, and did not in the 
least diminish it. She, perceiving this, accosted him in 
an ironical tone, and with a smile of indignation. "I 
hope," said she, "I may be allowed to pay you my 
homage, although the angelic Stewart has forbid you 
to see me at my own house. I will not make use of 
reproaches and expostulations, which would disgrace 
myself: still less will I endeavour to excuse frailties 
which nothing can justify, since your constancy for me 
deprives me of all defence, considering I am the only 
person you have honoured with your tenderness, who 
has made herself unworthy of it by ill conduct. I 
come now, therefore, with no other intent than to 
comfort and to condole with you upon the affliction 
and grief into which the coldness, or new-fashioned 
chastity of the inhuman Stewart have reduced your 
Majesty." 

These words were attended by a fit of laughter, 
as unnatural and strained as it was insulting and im- 
moderate, which completed the King's impatience. 
He had, indeed, expected that some bitter jest would 
follow this preamble; but he did not suppose she 
would have given herself such blustering airs, con- 
sidering the terms they were then upon; and, as he 
was preparing to answer her : "Be not offended," said 
she, "that I take the liberty of laughing at the gross 
manner in which you are imposed upon. I cannot bear 
to see that such particular affectation should make you 
the jest of your own Court, and that you should be 
ridiculed with such impunity. I know that the affected 
Stewart has sent you away, under pretence of some in- 
disposition, or perhaps some scruple of conscience; and 
I come to acquaint you that the Duke of Richmond 
will soon be with her, if he is not there already. I do 
not desire you to believe what I say, since it might be 
prompted either through resentment or envy : only f ol- 



368 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

low me to her apartment, either that, no longer trust- 
ing calumny and malice, you may honour her with a 
just preference, if I accuse her falsely; or, if my in- 
formation be true, you may no longer be the dupe of a 
pretended prude, who makes you act so unbecoming 
and ridiculous a part." 

As she ended this speech, she took him by the hand, 
while he was yet undecided, and pulled him away 
towards her rivaFs apartments. Chiffinch** being in 
her interest, Miss Stewart could have no warning of 

*• William Chiffinch or Cheffing, Page of the Backstairs and 
Keeper of the King's Closet, brother and successor to Thomas 
Chiffinch, who held the confidential post under Charles I., and 
was caretaker of the jewels, pictures, etc., at Whitehall. William 
and his wife, Barbara Nunn, succeeded to the backstair duties in 
1666, with a salary of £1200. In Fisher's plan of the Palace, 
Chiffinch's apartments may be seen adjoining those of the King, 
the stairs leading directly up to them from the river. Here it 
was that the most secret interviews were held by both Charles 
and his brother James. 

In a letter from Charles to Sir John Shaw, he says : ** I could 
not get time to speake with your man that is come over, but 
now if you will send him to Will Chiffines at 7 this evening he 
will bring him privately into my closet. — C. R" The duties also 
of Mrs. Chiffinch are alluded to in Scott's Peveril of the Peak, 
an idea of which may be gathered from a contemporary satire 
which commences — 

** It happened in the twilight of the day. 
As England's monarch in his closet lay. 
And Chiffinch stepped to fetch the female prey." 

Chiffinch was the receiver of the pension from King Louis. The 
family came from Kent, but settled at Salisbury, to which town 
William was a benefactor. By the Verney Papers it appears he 
was knighted. "Last week," says John Verney, "the King being 
at Windsor did Mr. Chiffinch the favour to dine with him, and 
after dinn'er conferred the honor of knighthood on him " (Hist. 
MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p.' 467). Chiffinch lived not far from 
Windsor, at Bray, at a house still existing, called " Philberts." 
Tradition says the King made many of his private pleasure trips 
there (vide History of Bray). Here Chiffinch died in 1691 
(?i688). He also owned property at Iden Green, near Staple- 
hurst. His daughter Barbara married Edward Villiers, first Earl 
of Jersey. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 369 

the visit; and Babiani,*^ who owed all to the Duchess 
of Cleveland, and who served her admirably well upon 
this occasion, came and told her that the Duke of 
Richmond had just gone into Miss Stewart's chamber. 
It was in the middle of a little gallery, which, through 
a private door, led from the King's apartments to those 
of his mistresses. The Duchess of Cleveland wished 
him good-night, as he entered her rival's chamber, and 
retired, in order to wait the success of the adventure, 
of which Babiani, who attended the King, was charged 
to come and give her an account. 

It was near midnight. The King, in his way, met 
his mistress's chambermaid, who respectfully opposed 
his entrance, and in a very low voice whispered his 
Majesty that Miss Stewart had been very ill since 
he left her ; but that, being gone to bed, she was, God 
be thanked, in a very fine sleep. "That I must see," 
said the King, pushing her back, who had posted her- 
self in his way. He found Miss Stewart in bed, indeed, 
but far from being asleep : the Duke of Richmond was 
seated at her pillow, and in all probability was less 
inclined to sleep than herself. The perplexity of the 
one party, and the rage of the other, were such as may 
easily be imagined upon such a surprise. The King, 
who, of all men, was one of the most mild and gentle, 
testified his resentment to the Duke of Richmond in 
such terms as he had never before used. The Duke 
was speechless, and almost petrified : he saw his master 
and his King justly irritated. The first transports 
which rage inspires on such occasions are dangerous. 
Miss Stewart's window was very convenient for a 
sudden revenge, the Thames flowing close beneath it. 
He cast his eyes upon it ; and, seeing those of the King 

** Possibly " Bab " May, who, according to Pepys, was attached 
to her interests. He was Page of the Bedchamber and confidant 
of the King's amours. Born 1627, oh. 1693. 



370 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

more incensed and fired with indignation than he 
thought his nature capable of, he made a profound 
bow, and retired, without replying a single word to the 
vast torrent of threats and menaces that were poured 
upon him. 

Miss Stewart, having a little recovered from her 
first surprise, instead of justifying herself, began to 
talk in the most extravagant manner, and said every- 
thing that was most capable*" to inflame the King's 
passion and resentment; that, if she were not allowed 
to receive visits from a man of the Duke of Rich- 
mond's rank, who came with honourable intentions, 
she was a slave in a free country ; that she knew of no 
engagement that could prevent her from disposing of 
her hand as she thought proper; but, however, if this 
was not permitted her in his dominions, she did not 
believe that there was any power on earth that could 
hinder her from going over to France, and throwing 
herself into a convent, to enjoy there that tranquillity 
which was denied her in his Court. The King, some- 
times furious with anger, sometimes relenting at her 
tears, and sometimes terrified at her menaces, was so 
greatly agitated, that he knew not how to answer, 
either the nicety of a creature who wanted to act the 
part of Lucretia under his own eye, or the assurance 
with which she had the effrontery to reproach him. In 
this suspense, love had almost entirely vanquished all 
his resentments, and had nearly induced him to throw 
himself upon his knees, and entreat pardon for the 
injury he had done her, when she desired him to retire, 
and leave her in repose, at least for the remainder of 
that night, without offending those who had either ac- 
companied him, or conducted him to her apartments, 
by a longer visit. This impertinent request provoked 
and irritated him to the highest degree. He went out 
*= Calculated (Vizetelly). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 371 

abruptly, vowing never to see her more, and passed 
the most restless and uneasy night he had ever ex- 
perienced since his restoration. 

The next day the Duke of Richmond received orders 
to quit the Court, and never more to appear before the 
King ; but it seems he had not waited for those orders, 
having set out early that morning for his country seat,** 

Miss Stewart, in order to obviate all injurious con- 
structions that might be put upon the adventure of the 

*'20th March 1666-7 — Pepys says: "I hear that the Duke of 
Richmond and Mrs. Stewart were betrothed last night"; and 
on srd April 1667 : " I hear how the King is not so well pleased 
of this marriage between the Duke of Richmond and Mrs. Stew- 
art as is talked, and that he [the Duke] by a wile did fetch 
her to the Beare, at the Bridge foot [a well-known hostelry at 
Southwark], where a Coach was ready and they are stole away 
into Kent without the King's leave and that the King hath said he 
will never see her more : but people do think that is only a trick." 
On 16th April : " Pierce told us the story how in good earnest 
[the King] is offended with the Duke of Richmond's marrying, 
and Mrs. Stewart's sending the King his Jewels again — it is the 
noblest romance and example of a brave lady that ever I read 
in my life." 26th April : [Evelyn] " told me " (writes Pepys) 
*'the whole story of Mrs. Stewart going away from Court, he 
knowing her well, and believes her, up to her leaving the Court, 
to be as virtuous as any woman in the world ; and told me, from 
a Lord that she told it to but yesterday, with her own mouth, 
and a sober man, that when the Duke of Richmond did make 
love to her, she did ask the King, and he did the like also, and 
that the King did not deny it, and [she] told this Lord that 
she was come to that pass as to resolve to have married any 
gentleman of £1500 a year that would have had her in honour; 
for it was come to that pass, that she could not long'er continue 
at Court without prostituting herself to the King, whom she had 
so long kept off, though he had liberty more than any other had, 
or he ought to have, as to dalliance. She told this Lord that 
she had reflected upon the occasion she had given the world 
to think her a bad woman and that she had no way but to 
marry and leave the Court, rather in this way of discontent than 
otherwise, that the world might see that she sought not anvthing 
but her honour ; and that she will never come to live at Court 
more than when she comes to town to come to kiss the Queen 
her mistress's hand, and hopes, though she hath little reason to 
hope, she can please her Lord so as to reclaim him, that they 
may yet live comfortably in the country on his estate. . . . She 



Zy2 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

preceding night, went and threw herself at the Queen's 
feet, where, acting the new part of an innocent Mag- 
dalen, she entreated her Majesty's forgiveness for all 
the sorrow and uneasiness she might have already oc- 
casioned her. She told her Majesty that a constant 
and sincere repentance had induced her to contrive all 
possible means for retiring from Court : that this rea- 
son had inclined her to receive the Duke of Rich- 
mond's addresses, who had courted her a long time; 
but since this courtship had caused his disgrace, and 
had likewise raised a vast noise and disturbance, which 
perhaps might be turned to the prejudice of her reputa- 
tion, she conjured her Majesty to take her under her 
protection, and endeavour to obtain the King's per- 
mission for her to retire into a convent, to remove at 
once all those vexations and troubles her presence had 
innocently occasioned at Court. All this was accom- 
panied with a proper deluge of tears. 

It is a very agreeable spectacle to see a rival pros- 
trate at our feet, entreating pardon, and at the same 
time justifying her conduct. The Queen's heart not 
only relented, but she mingled her own tears with those 

IS gone yesterday with her Lord to Cobham." On ijth July 
(1667) : [Creed] "told me over the story of Mrs. Stewart much 
after the manner which I was told it long since, and have en- 
tered it in this book told me by Mr. Evelyn ; only he says it is 
verily believed that the King did never intend to marry her 
to any but himself, and that the Duke of York and Lord Chan- 
cellor Were jealous of it; and that Mrs. Stewart might be got 
with child by the King, or somebody else, and the King own 
a marriage before his contract, for it is but a contract, as he 
tells me, to this day, with the Queen, and so wipe their noses 
of the Crown ; and that therefore the Duke of York and Chan- 
cellor did do all they could to forward the match with my Lord 
Duke of Richmond that she might be married out of the way; 
but, above all, it is a worthy part that this good lady hath acted." 
Frances Stewart was the third wife of the Duke of Richmond. 
His second wife had died only three months previously. It would 
be interesting to know if the Duchess reclaimed her husband 
from his intemperate habits. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 373 

of Miss Stewart. After having raised her up, and 
most tenderly embraced her, she promised her all man- 
ner of favour and protection, either in her marriage, 
or in any other course she thought fit to pursue, and 
parted from her with the firm resolution to exert all 
her interest in her support; but, being a person of 
great judgment, the reflections which she afterwards 
made induced her to change her opinion.** 

She knew that the King's disposition was not capable 
of an obstinate constancy. She therefore judged that 
absence would cure him, or that a new engagement 
would by degrees entirely efface the remembrance of 
Miss Stewart ; and that, since she could not avoid hav- 
ing a rival, it was more desirable she should be one who 
had given such eminent proofs of her prudence and 
virtue. Besides, she flattered herself that the King 
would ever think himself eternally obliged to her, for 
having opposed the retreat and marriage of a girl, 

** Rumours had been constantly afloat that the King contem- 
plated a separation from the Queen on the plea of her barrenness. 
Buckingham and other of his unprincipled advisers and enemies 
of the Duke of York favoured the idea of a divorce, which they 
undertook to carry through the Parliament and had Frances 
Stewart not taken the step she did, there is no telling but that 
the report that was current both in this country as well as in 
Portugal, may have proved only too true. Whether Lord Clar- 
endon brought about the match between the Duke of Richmond 
and the King's favourite is doubtful, though his enemies failed 
not to make the most of the opportunity; but the King certainly 
thought he was at the bottom of the secret marriage, and showed 
his resentment accordingly. 

On the night that Frances Stewart fled from Whitehall, Clar- 
endon's son, Lord Cornbury, unaware of her departure, was 
going towards her lodgings, when he met the King coming out 
" full of fury," who, suspecting him to be in the plot, " spoke 
to him as one in a rage that forgot all decency, and for some 
time would not hear Lord Cornbury speak in his own d'efence." 
As is well known. Clarendon's disgrace happened shortly after- 
wards. The Seal was delivered up on 30th August 1667. See 
Burnet's History of his Own Time, Clarendon's Continuation 
of his Life, History of the Revolutions of Portugal, 1740, Jesse's 
Memoirs of the Stuarts, etc. 



374 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

whom at that time he loved to distraction. This fine 
reasoning determined her conduct. All her industry 
was employed in persuading Miss Stewart to abandon 
her schemes; and what is most extraordinary in this 
adventure is, that, after having prevailed upon her to 
think no more either of the Duke of Richmond, or of 
a nunnery, she charged herself with the office of 
reconciling these two lovers. 

Indeed it would have been a thousand pities if her 
negotiation had miscarried ; but she did not suffer this 
misfortune; for never were the King's addresses so 
eager and passionate as after this peace, nor ever better 
received by the fair Stewart.*^ 



45 



26th December 1667 — Pepys says : " I hear this day that Mrs. 
Stewart do at this day keep a great court at Somerset House 
with her husband, the Duke of Richmond, she being visited for 
her beauty sake by people, as the Queen is at nights; and they 
say also that she is likely to go to Court again and there put my 
Lady Castlemayne's nose out of joint." On the following day 
Sir Hugh Cholmely tells him "that the business of getting the 
Duchess of Richmond to Court is broke off, the Duke not 
suffering it, and thereby great trouble is brought among the 
people that endeavoured it, and thought they had compassed it." 
On 14th January 1667-8, Mrs. Pierce tells Pepys "that the 
Duchesse of Richmond do not yet come to Court, nor hath seen 
the King, nor will not, nor do he own his desire of seeing her, 
but hath used means to get her to Court, but they do not take." 
A little over two months afterwards a great calamity befalls the 
great beauty, she is seized with the smallpox. 26th March 1668 — 
Pepys writes : " This noon, from Mrs. Williams my Lord 
Brouncker sent to Somerset House to hear how the Duchess 
of Richmond do; and word was brought him that she is pretty 
well but mighty full of the smallpox, by which all do conclude 
she will be wholly spoiled, which is the greatest instance of the 
uncertainty of beauty that could be in this age; but then she 
hath had the benefit of it to be first married and to have kept 
it so long under the greatest temptations in the world, from 
a King, and yet without the least imputation." d>th May 1668 — 
Lord Sandwich tells Pepys the Duchess of Richmond has re- 
covered from her illness. " The King hath made several public 
visits to her and [she is] like to come to Court." igth May 
1668 — Pierce tells Pepys the King is " mighty hot upon the 
Duchess of Richmond, insomuch that upon Sunday was se'nnjght 
at night, after he had ordered his Guards and coach to be ready 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 375 

His Majesty did not long enjoy the sweets of a 
reconciliation, which brought him into the best good- 
humour possible, as we shall see. All Europe was in a 
profound peace, since the treaty of the Pyrenees. 

to carry him to the Park, he did on a sudden take a pair of 
oars or scullers, and all alone, or but one with him, go to Somer- 
set House, and there, the garden door not being open, himself 
clamber over the walls to make a visit to her, which is a hor- 
rid shame." 6th July 1668 — Pepys enters : " The Duchesse of 
Richmond sworn last week of the Queen's Bedchamber." On 
i8th August Pepys saw the Duchess of Richmond and Lady 
Castlemaine in the Park and they appeared strange to one an- 
other. 30th August — Pepys goes to the Park and in the King's 
garden saw the Duchess of Richmond, *' who is of a noble person 
as ever I saw, but her face worse than it was considerably by the 
smallpox." On 9th September 1668 Pepys visits the Duke of 
Richmond " at his lodgings in the little building in the bowling- 
green at Whitehall," but to his disappointment his wife was in 
the country. This is the last we hear of La Belle Stewart in 
the famous Diary. Lord Dartmouth says : " After her marriage 
she had more complaisance than before, as King Charles could 
not forbear telling the Duke of Richmond, when he was drunk 
at Lord Townsh end's in Norfolk [Raynham Hall]." After her 
husband's death in 1672, the Duchess sold her life interest in 
Cobham, probably about the year 1677, as among the Verney 
papers (Hist. MS. Com. Rep. 7, App. p. 468), in a letter from 
John to Sir Ralph Verney, 28th May 1677, is the following " The 
Duchess of Richmond hath lately sold her interest in Cobham 
to Lord O'Brien, so 'tis believed she will suddenly own her mar- 
riage to Lord Mulgrave." Whatever may have been the cause 
of this rumour, no such marriage ever took place. 

In 1679, a young amorous gallant at Court named Jack How 
boasted of certain favours he had received from the widowed 
Duchess, whereupon she complained to the King, who appointed 
a committee (viz. Monmouth, Essex, Sunderland, and Halifax) 
to inquire into the matter, and How was forbidden again to 
come to Court, as upon examination the King decided that a 
certain letter of the Duchess had been forged [see Sidney Cor- 
respondence, vol. i. pp. 100, 122]. For some years the once famous 
beauty was in receipt of a pension from the Royal Purse of 
£150 a year. 

The Duchess was pres'ent at the Coronation of Queen Anne, 
dressed in the robes which are to be seen upon her wax eflfigy 
at Westminster Abbey. (N.B.— The parrot by her side is said 
to have been a pet of the Duchess's for forty years, and only 
survived its mistress a few days.) She died isth October 1702, 
and was buried in the Richmond vault in Henry VH. Chapel. 



Z^e THE COURT OF CHARLES H 

Spain flattered herself she should be able to recruit, by 
means of the new alliance she had contracted with the 
most formidable of her neighbours; but despaired of 
being able to support the shattered remains of a declin- 
ing monarchy, when she considered the age and in- 
firmities of her prince, or the weakness of his successor. 
France, on the contrary, governed by a king inde- 
fatigable in business, young, vigilant, and ambitious of 
glory, wanted nothing but inclination to aggrandise 
herself. 

It was about this time that the King of France, not 
willing to disturb the tranquillity of Europe, was per- 
suaded to alarm the coasts of Africa, by an attempt, 
which, if it had even been crowned with success, would 
have produced little good. But the King's fortune, 
ever faithful to his glory, has since made it appear, by 
the miscarriage of the expedition of Gigeri,*' that such 
projects only as were planned by himself were worthy 
of his attention. 

A short time after, the King of England, having 
resolved also to explore the African coasts, fitted out 
a squadron for an expedition to Guinea,*^ which was to 
be commanded by Prince Rupert. Those who, from 
their own experience, had some knowledge of the 
country, related strange and wonderful stories of the 

*" In October 1664. Gigeri is about forty leagues from Algiers. 
The French had a factory there; but attempting to build a fort 
on the seacoast, to be a check upon the Arabs, _ they came down 
from the mountains, beat the French out of Gigeri, and demol- 
ished their fort. Sir Richard Fanshaw, in a letter to the Deputy 
Governor of Tangier, dated 2nd December 1664, says, "We have 
certain intelligence that the French have lost Gigheria, with all 
they had there, and their fleet come back, with the loss of one 
considerable ship upon the rocks near Marseilles" (Fanshaw's 
Letters, vol. i. p. 347). The French expedition against Gigeri 
was despatched there early in the previous October. See also 
Pepys, nth October 1664. 

*^ This was in August 1664, a year before the Duke of York's 
visit to York (see ante, p. 357). 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 377 

dangers attendant upon this expedition: that they 
would have to fight not only the inhabitants of Guinea, 
a hellish people, whose arrows were poisoned, and who 
never gave their prisoners better quarter than to de- 
your them, but that they must likewise endure heats 
that were insupportable, and rains that were intoler- 
able, every drop of which was changed into a serpent ; 
that, if they penetrated farther into the country, they 
would be assaulted by monsters a thousand times more 
hideous and destructive than all the beasts mentioned 
in the Revelation. 

But all these reports were vain and ineffectual ; for 
so far from striking terror into those who were ap- 
pointed to go upon this expedition, it rather acted as 
an incentive to glory upon those who had no manner 
of business in it. Jerm)^ appeared among the fore- 
most of these ; and, without reflecting that the pretence 
of his indisposition had delayed the conclusion of his 
marriage with Miss Jennings, he asked the Duke^s 
permission, and the King's consent to serve in it as a 
volunteer. 

Some time before this, the infatuation which had 
imposed upon the fair Jennings in his favour had 
begun to subside. All that now inclined her to this 
match was the advantages of a settlement. The care- 
less indolence of a lover, who faintly paid his addresses 
to her, as it were from custom or habit, disgusted** her ; 
and the resolution he had taken, without consulting 
her, appeared so ridiculous in him, and so injurious to 
herself, that, from that moment, she resolved to think 
no more of him. Her eyes being opened by degrees, 
she saw the fallacy of the splendour, which had at first 
deceived her; and the renowned Jermyn was received 
according to his real merit when he came to acquaint 
her with his heroical project. There appeared so much 
* Disheartened (Viz'etelly). 



378 THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

indifference and ease in the raillery with which she 
complimented him upon his voyage, that he was en- 
tirely disconcerted, and so much the more so, as he had 
prepared all the arguments he thought capable of 
consoling her, upon announcing to her the fatal news 
of his departure. She told him, "that nothing could 
be more glorious for him, who had triumphed over the 
liberty of so many persons*^ in Europe, than to go and 
extend his conquests in other parts of the world ; and 
that she advised him to bring home with him all the 
female captives he might make in Africa, in order to 
replace those beauties whom his absence would bring 
to the grave." 

Jermyn was highly displeased that she should be 
capable of raillery in the condition he supposed her 
reduced to; but he soon perceived she was in earnest. 
She told him that she considered this farewell visit as 
his last, and desired him not to think of making her 
any more before his departure. 

Thus far everything went well on her side. Jermyn 
was not only confounded at having received his dis- 
charge in so cavalier a manner; but this very demon- 
stration of her indifference had revived, and even 
redoubled, all the love and affection he had formerly 
felt for her. Thus she had both the pleasure of de- 
spising him, and of seeing him more entangled in the 
chains of love than he had ever been before. This was 
not sufficient: she wished still farther, and very un- 
advisedly, to strain her resentment. 

Ovid's Epistles, translated into English verse by the 
greatest wits at Court, having lately been published,'* 
she wrote a letter from a shepherdess in despair, 
addressed to the perfidious Jermyn. She took the 

*^ Women (Vizetelly). 

^°Viz. circulated. The translation of Ovid's Epistles was not 
printed until 1680. 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 379 

epistle of Ariadne to Theseus for her model. The 
beginning of this letter contained, word for word, the 
complaints and reproaches of that injured fair to the 
cruel man by whom she had been abandoned. All this 
was properly adapted to the present times and circum- 
stances. 

It was her design to have closed this piece with 
a description of the toils, perils, and monsters, that 
awaited him in Guinea, for which he quitted a ten- 
der mistress, who was plunged into the abyss of 
misery, and was overwhelmed with grief and despair; 
but not having had time to finish it, nor to get that 
which she had written transcribed, in order to send it 
to him under a feigned name, she inconsiderately put 
this fragment, written in her own hand, into her 
pocket, and, still more giddily," dropped it in the mid- 
dle of the Court. Those who took it up, knowing her 
writing, made several copies of it, which were circu- 
lated all over the town ; but her former conduct had so 
well established the reputation of her virtue, that no 
person entertained the smallest doubt that the circum- 
stances were exactly as we have related them. Some 
time after, the Guinea expedition* was laid aside for 
reasons that are tmiversally known, and Miss Jen- 

•* Foolishly (Vizetelly). 

"^With the object of trading on the African coast, a company 
was formed under royal patronage in opposition to the Dutch 
settlers, A small fleet sailed to Guinea in 1664 and seized several 
strongholds, including Cape Corse Castle, the settlements of 
Cape Verde, and the Isle of Goree. The States of Holland 
naturally resented, and as the animosity increased, Prince 
Rupert was ordered out with a new fleet, which, however, never 
sailed. 

De Ruyt'er, having received secret orders, appeared in time to 
expel the English from their recent acquisitions, excepting Cape 
Corse. This led to 150 Dutch merchant vessels being captured, 
after which war with Holland was declared. A full account 
of the Guinea expedition is given in Clarendon's Continuation, 
p. 225. See also Hume, Lingard, and Vizetelly's Gramont, ii. 
p. 232. 



38o THE COURT OF CHARLES II 

ning^s subsequent prcKeedings fully justified her letter; 
for, notwithstanding all the efforts and attentions 
Jermyn practised to regain her affections, she would 
never more hear of him. 

But he was not the only man who experienced the 
whimsical fatality, that seemed to delight in disuniting 
hearts, in order to engage them soon after to different 
objects. One would have imagined that the God of 
Love, actuated by some new caprice, had placed his 
empire under the dominion of Hymen, and had, at the 
same time, blindfolded that God, in order to cross- 
match most of the lovers of whom we have been 
speaking. 

The fair Stewart married the Duke of Richmond ; 
the invincible Jermyn, a silly" country girl;** Lord 
Rochester, a melancholy heiress;" the sprightly Temple, 
the serious Lyttelton; Talbot, without knowing why 
or wherefore, took to wife the languishing Boynton; 
George Hamilton, under more favourable auspices, 
married the lovely Jennings;^* and the Chevalier de 

"Conceited (Vizetelly). 

^ Miss Gibbs, daughter of a Cambridgeshire gentleman. There 
was no issue from this marriage. In 1685 Jerm5m was created 
Baron Dover. He retired to Cheveley Cambs, where he died in 
1708. See Saint Evremond's Works, vol. ii. p. 223. 

"^Elizabeth, daughter of John Mallet of Enmore, Somerset- 
shire. Rochester's runaway match is thus referred to by Pepys, 
28th May 1665 : ** To my Lady Sandwiche*s, where to my shame 
I had not befen a great while. Here upon my telling her a story 
of my Lord of Rochester's running away on Friday night last 
with Mrs. Mallett, the great beauty and fortune of the north, 
who had supped at Whitehall with Mrs. Stewart, and was going 
home to her lodgings with her grandfather, my Lord Hally, by 
coach; and was at Charing Cross seized on by both horse and 
footmen, and forcibly taken from him and put into a coach 
with six horses, and two women provided to receive her, and 
carried away. Upon immediate pursuit, my Lord of Rochester 
(for whom the King had spoke to the lady often, but with no 
success) was taken at Uxbridge; but the lady is not yet heard 
of, and the King mighty angry, and the lord sent to the Tower. 
Hereupon my lady did confess to me as a great secret her being 



COUNT DE GRAMONT 381 

Gramont, as the reward of a constancy he had never 
before known, and which he never afterwards prac- 
tised, found Hymen and Love united in his favour, 
and was at last blessed with the possession of Miss 
Hamilton." 

concerned in this story, for if this match breaks between my Lord 
Rochester and her, then by the consent of all her friends, my 
Lord Hinchingbroke stands fair, and is invited for her. She is 
worth, and will be at her mother's death (who keeps but little 
from her), 2500/. per annum." Pepys mentions seeing Rochester 
and his wife at the play on 4th February 1666-7. 

^"George was knighted by Charles IL He went abroad with 
his wife and entered the service of Louis XIV. Lady Hamilton 
as a widow is mentioned in Evelyn's Diary, 12th November 1675. 
She is described then as "a sprightly young lady — now turned 
Papist." 

"He was married in December 1663. When a son was born 
the following year "as beautiful as the mother," Comminges tells 
us. "All the Court has rejoiced with him, and he looks much 
the younger for the event" — 8th September 1664 (Comminges to 
Lionne), A French Ambassador at the Court of Charles IL p. 95. 



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